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kamiversee · 23 hours

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Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 3/3)

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ You'll never accuse your boyfriend Choso of being too jealous of a lover after he reveals to you he has absolutely no problems with sharing you... (part one) (part two)

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, language, threesome, dirty talk, tw; possible men smooching, rough & semi-soft sex, choking, praise, degrading, etc.

[ { Parings } ] ➤ Choso x f!reader & Gojo x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 6.8k (this entire thing is so long & I am no longer the same woman I was before I wrote this)

The two men don't think they've ever moved faster to do something in their lives. Gojo was scooping you up into his arms in the blink of an eye and Choso was rushing to clean the mess you'd made of his couch.

They were both oddly in sync, seeming to have had the same thought process of what they were about to do with you and how. Choso stayed where he was to clean up a bit and Gojo was carrying you off in the direction of Choso's bedroom.

He was carrying you bridal style and your eyes were all wide and up on his pretty face. You couldn't read his expression very well and you're not sure if that's because you were too fucked out to do so or if it was because you were just distracted by his features.

It's been so long since you'd been this close to Gojo, you nearly forgot how angelic his features are-- even when he's about to ruin you. Gojo catches onto your staring and glances down at you for a moment as he makes a turn, letting out a soft scoff in reaction to you.

"Why're you lookin' at me like that?" He hums before lifting his gaze and peering down the hallway ahead of him. He had no idea where he was going but he'd soon figure it out.

You tilt your head and smile a little, "Third door on your left, 'Toru." You instruct, to which blush spreads across his face as he clears his throat.

"Yeah, I knew that..." Gojo pouts a little and you can't help but find him cute while he continues his little walk, "But you didn't answer my question."

"I'm not looking at you any kinda' way, am I?" You ask with an innocent bat of your lashes.

Gojo makes it to Choso's bedroom and he's quick to walk in and kick the door almost shut behind him as he does so. You wonder why he tried to close the door for a second but you don't get much time to ponder on it as Gojo b-lines for the bed and lays you on it.

Then he's hovering over you, his eyes low on yours, and this look of pure desire washing over his face, "You're giving me that needy lil' look," He explains, "Like you want me to hurry up and fuck you."

You shrug, "Maybe I do."

"You don't wanna wait on your boyfriend?" Gojo asks. He's taunting you now. It's so very obvious with the way the corners of his lips curve into a smirk.

You swallow hard and don't answer for a moment. The two of you just gaze at one another for a long while, Gojo steadily inching down toward you and tilting his head opposite of yours.

His larger body was in between your legs so it's no surprise that you feel his cock brush against you as he gets closer. What is somewhat surprising is how wet his tip is as it brushes over your skin.

Then Gojo's lips are less than an inch away from yours, "Hm? Answer me."

You blink, "He's taking too long," You murmur in response with a slight pout. Lifting an arm and wrapping it around Gojo to pull him impossibly closer, you whisper right against his mouth, "Why wait when you could just fuck me right now? You know you want to."

Gojo's not sure he's ever had this much restraint in his life. Especially not when you sneak a hand down in between your bodies and grab a light hold of his leaky cock just to try and align him with yourself.

Your lips and his were right against each other but you two weren't kissing, simply breathing each other in, staring so longingly for one another. Hell, you might've been too into this because you genuinely forgot about Choso for a moment.

Then Gojo's pushing his hips down into you ever so slightly and his hard and flushed cock is just pushing against your cunt, begging and aching to enter you.

"You're so lucky you aren't mine," Gojo whispers, shifting to kiss only your lower lip before he repositions slightly and moves your hand away from his dick only to grab ahold of himself and tease you by dragging his tip in between your folds, "I'd lock the door and force Choso to listen to me fuck you senseless."

You grin, "What's stopping you? That's probably what he wants anyway..."

Gojo smiles, "What happened to you being nervous about cheating on him?"

"It's not cheating if he wants me to do it, right?" You hum.

A sight leaves Gojo's lips and he starts pushing only an inch of his cock inside you, feeling the way your legs move to wrap around his waist and how your pussy tries to suck him in deeper.

He's then shaking his head, "Thought' you wanted us both?"

"He can join later," You breathe out, your voice airier than before, "J-Just put it in Satoru."

Gojo draws his hips back and you let off a whine. Then he moves to tap his cock against your cunt, listening to how wet and lewd the little smack is, "Want' me that bad, huh?"

You nod, "Mhm..."

"Beg for me," Gojo utters, "If you want me to fuck you so badly and you just can't wait for your boyfriend," He's leaning into your lips again and speaks against you in such a messy way, "Beg for me."

"P-Please?" You whimper, feeling his cock nudge into you again but only an inch, "Fuck, Satoru please?"

"Please what?" He sneers and this time he's pushing another inch in, making you moan slightly.

"Just fuck me," Your words come out in a desperate little whimper and it drives the man crazy.

Gojo lifts his face up and slightly away from yours and pouts, "Just fuck me," He mocks, to which heat rushes to your face and you turn your head to the side, "So fuckin' needy," He groans as he finally starts pushing his cock inside you.

Truth be told, he couldn't wait either. Not when he had you to himself for a second, not when you were looking at him so longingly, and not when your cunt just squeezes around his shaft as he enters you.

It was like you wanted to push him away and yet suck him all the way in at the same time. You were so perfect. Gojo couldn't help but stare at the way your eyes flicker as he gets about halfway in-- you were too damn cute.

All that whining moments ago just for you to start struggling already. And to think you're supposed to be able to handle both him and Choso?

Gojo starts snickering, "Fuck, you're adorable," He says as he flashes a smile at you.

You glance out of the corner of your eye and furrow your brows as he continues pushing in-, fuck how much more does he have to go?

The man tilts his head at you and inclines down again, "Face me, sweetheart," He says, "I wanna watch the way your face twists up when I'm all the way in."

You swallow and slowly turn your head to him, your lips grazing his as you do so.

Then Gojo bites his lower lips, "Good girl," He praises, earning a whine from you. And that's all it takes for him to shallowly thrust the remaining inches of his cock into you.

Oh how he loves watching your entire facial expression change. Eyes rolling, jaw-dropping a bit, lips parted, and a sexy moan leaving your throat. Gojo pretty much forgets what the hell he's supposed to be doing at that point.

Because then he's pulling back out and thrusting deeper in, his hips crashing into yours and another moan, this time of his name, pouring out your mouth. Yeah, how did he get here again? What-, no who was he supposed to be waiting on?

Ah, he couldn't remember. Not now at least, not when your arms and legs are moving to wrap around him comfortably. And goddamn the way your pussy squelches around his dick, so loud and messy for him and he's barely even worked up a pace yet.

He'd fix that relatively quickly though, allowing you a few thrusts to get used to him before he can't take it anymore.

Gojo's eyes bore down into yours and he drinks in your face while he starts drilling himself into your tight hole. Then he's talking, "Fuuck, y'like that? Like' bein' an impatient lil' slut and gettin' dicked down without your boyfriend, huh?"

God, you hated his mouth. Or at least, you think you do. "M-Mmgh, Satoru-"

"What's he gonna think when he walks in, hm?" Gojo taunts, shifting to angle his hips differently and fuck into that one mushy spot inside you. Then he scoffs, "Actually, moan a lil' louder so he can hear ya'."

You bite your lower lip on purpose to keep your sounds in and then shake your head no.

Gojo scoffs, "No? Fuck you mean no?" He grunts, his voice getting so low as your brattiness ticks him off. Then he moves a hand to your face, grabbing a rough hold of your chin and moving his thumb to pry your lips apart, "Let your boyfriend hear how impatient you are," He huffs out.

"Fuuck-, S'toru p-please," You whimper, a slight bit of drool leaving the corner of your mouth.

He smirks, "Goddamn brat," The tip of Gojo's cock is just hitting deeper and deeper and deeper, "Tellin' me no," He huffs, "The hell has gotten into you, huh?"

You whine again, "M'sorryy... mmmh, hahh-, ahh..."

He tips his head to the opposite side, "M'sorrryyyy, she says. Please fuck me, Toru, she begged. Aaand yet here you are; fuckin' whining," Gojo mocks you as he just buries his dick as far in as he can go.

It felt like he was tearing you apart. His hips were so mean and brutal against yours, never giving you a chance to properly breathe before he's drilling into that spot that makes you see stars. You couldn't even think straight anymore unless he was talking to you and even then his words only made your situation worse.

Hell, you were cumming around his cock before you even realized it.

"Ohh, look at thaaat," Gojo huffs out, "Now she's creamin' on me-, fuuck..."

A shaky hand moves and tries to go to his mouth because fuck you just needed a second to breathe, to process what was happening, and to shut him up. But of course, Gojo just grabs your wrist and then pins it up over your head.

"Tryna shut me up?" Gojo snickers, "Why, pretty girl? Am I not makin' you feel good?" He whispers.

The heavy smack of his balls to your ass echo throughout the room, the loud and sloppy sounds of his harsh thrusts heard everywhere. In and out and in and out, Gojo wasn't slowing down for even one moment. He was damn there pussydrunk already.

By this point his mouth had a mind of its own and his hips wouldn't stop ramming into you. His soaked tip hit yet another spot that had your breath leaving your throat over and over and over again.

"F-Fuck-, oh fuck-," You gasp, eyes widening as your back arches up into him a bit, your chest flush with his as he then rolls his hips down into you to really dig into that very spot, "Oh my g-god- fuuuck, 'Toru p-please."

Gojo moves his free hand and trails down along your body until he feels the prominent outline of his cock inside you. Then he smirks just as he presses down on it, "Yeah? Feel' me right there, huh?" He whispers sensually.

His voice drove you insane and it's just perfect that he simply never stops talking.

And of course he moves over to whisper in your ear as he pounds into that spot of yours, feeling your walls clamp and clamp around his cock, "Forgot allll about your lil' boyfriend, didn't ya?" He taunts, making you let out such a whiney moan in response, "He's gonna walk in any second now 'nd catch you makin' a mess all over my cock."

You unintentionally squeeze around him and Gojo moans before his hand dips lower down and his thumb makes a messy connection with your clit, the initial contact making your entire body jolt and your legs clamp up, "F-Fuu-uck-, p-please-, please... hahhh," You're not sure what you were begging for but it's all you could say as his thumb circles your no-so-forgotten clit so tortuously slow.

Gojo kisses the crown of your ear softly and his thumb continues to draw tiny little shapes around your clit despite the rough thrusts into your pussy. Your cunt was spasming around his cock, twitching and throbbing all around him and making him groan at the way you squirm.

"C'monnn, y'know what I want," Gojo utters, his words caressing your ear so softly, "Cum f'me, sweets. Squirt on my fuckin' cock," He pleads, voice deep yet desperate with you, "Lemme prove your boyfriend wrong."

"Hahhh, S-Sa-, mmmgh-, Satoru," You whine out, voice slurred as you feel that sensation building up in your core again.

Gojo's eager for it so his pace grows a bit animalistic, sloppy even. So badly did he want to experience you squirting because of him, not your boyfriend. Choso's little comment from earlier still has Gojo upset so, he's taking it out on your poor overstimulated cunt.

All whilst he's whispering into your ear, "Fuuck, c'monn. Give it to me," He groans, "Fuckin' give it to me, sweetheart," Gojo's blurting out whatever comes to mind as all rational thoughts fade from his mind, "Y'know I'm fucking you better than he does anyway."

And with that, it happens.

Well, not you squirting again but your boyfriend walking in. Neither you nor Gojo realized until Choso huffed out a scoff, "Not like that, no you aren't." He comments in response to Gojo.

Maybe it was the shock from hearing Choso's voice, or perhaps it was the way Gojo thrust in balls deep as he too was shocked but either way, you do experience another leg-shaking orgasm.

As you do so, you're letting out a moan and you feel like you're about to pass out. You came a lot but, you didn't squirt— which ultimately leaves Gojo disappointed.

His lengthy cock is still buried into the hilt of your pussy but he stops moving at the sound of Choso’s voice. His breath is felt against your ear before Gojo grits his teeth a little— he knows he was close to getting what he wanted.

Then Gojo sighs and leans up, not daring to pull out of you yet as he sits back on his heels and pulls your hips along with him. It’s like he didn’t want to separate from you at all.

Turning his head back, he spots Choso standing at the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with his eyes low and on the lewd scene before him. The two men lock eyes before Choso shakes his head.

Gojo frowns as he finally processes what the hell he’d said to him, “What do you mean not like that, no I’m not?” Gojo huffs, “Had you not come in here, she would’ve wet me up like I wanted.”

Choso scoffs, “Yeah? Think so?” He taunts.

“I know so,” Gojo argues, eyes narrowing at the dark-haired man, “I felt it.”

“Uhuh,” Choso chastises, smirking a bit as he crosses his arms over his chest, “And what ruined that, me?”

“Yeah.” Gojo huffs.

“Aw,” Choso frowns, mocking Gojo’s expression as he pushes off the doorframe and slowly walks toward you two, “You’ mad cause you can’t make my girlfriend squirt?”

“I can,” Gojo emphasizes, “You just ruined the moment.”

“No one told you to stop,” Your boyfriend argues.

Gojo’s fingers are gently tracing indescribable shapes on your hips as your cunt keeps his cock nice and warm, “No one told you to come in here.” He fires back to your partner.

Choso raises a brow, “No one told you needy lil’ sluts to start fuckin’ without me.”

Gojo’s cock twitches inside you, “I’m not the needy one. Your girl here was the one beggin’ for my-“

“You told me to,” You mumble.

The man doesn’t even look down at you. Instead, all Gojo does is move a hand and squat his thumb over your clit again, making you jolt as you take that as his way of telling you to be quiet.

“Pretty girl couldn’t keep her hands off me, what was I supposed to do?” Gojo says as your back arches a little and your hips roll upward for more friction.

Choso couldn’t exactly see you too well yet but it was pretty obvious what Gojo was doing and he could hear the gentle whines you released. “Wait,” Choso says, “You were supposed to wait.”

A groan leaves Gojo’s lips and he rolls his eyes before turning his head away from your boyfriend and down to you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on the way you’re looking up at him. You had a hand trying to reach down and push his finger away from your clit but you were struggling— adorable, Gojo thought to himself.

“How could I possibly keep this,” His hips roll into yours and you moan, “Waiting?” Gojo questions.

“Toru,” You hum with a pout on your face.

He smiles and tilts his head at you, “Hm? That’ feel good?” He coos, his thumb shifting a little and pushing against your clit before he swats at it again. You nod in response and he continues his motions.

Choso rolls his eyes at you two. Despite the attitude he was putting on, he can’t deny how painfully hard he’s been. Even as he was cleaning the mess in the living room moments ago, he could hear you and Gojo going at it so he knew what was happening.

And when he had walked in and saw the way your cunt stretched around Gojo’s veiny cock, he couldn’t help but stare. Choso had to swallow hard at the sight because it made his dick throb wildly.

He was actually just watching for a bit before he even said something, his hand groping his erection at the sight before he couldn’t take it anymore.

All of which leads to now as he approaches the bed and you and him finally catch sight of one another.

Choso tips his head to the side as your eyes lay on his, “Look at youuu,” He murmurs, “Havin’ fun gettin’ fucked by someone else, huh?”

You frown, “N-No,” Gojo suddenly spits down on your clit and your body twitches as you talk to your boyfriend, “W-Want you too, Cho….”

He smiles, “Do you? Y’look like you’re havin’ a great time without me.”

It’s so sexy how you reach a hand out in his direction and whine for him, “P-Please, Choso?”

“You’re so cute when you beg for me, baby. How could I ever say no to ya’?” Choso comments with a smile on his face while he moves to get on the bed.

You and him forget Gojo’s there for a moment as Choso makes his way closer to you and then leans down to your face, his eyes gazing so intently into yours.

You try lifting your face to his to close the distance and kiss him but he leans up a little, “You want a kiss?” Choso teases.

You nod, “Uhuh.”

His hand carefully moves to grab a gentle and loving hold of your face, completely forgetting that he earlier said he was gonna put you in your place— Choso can’t even think of that right now when you look so fucked out and gaze up into his eyes so lovingly.

He sighs and leans down to you again, “Promise me somethin’ first.”

You bat your lashes at him and your eyes widen a little, “…Okay.”

All while Gojo’s sulking as he watches you two converse so intimately and just leave him out. As if to insert himself, despite his cock literally resting deep inside you, he spits on his thumb and rubs against your clit gently just to make your conversation a bit more difficult for you.

A breathy sound leaves your lips and Choso smirks, whispering to you so that Gojo can’t hear, “Stroke his ego a lil’ bit f’me, okay?” Choso instructs before placing a soft peck onto your lips.

You hum and then furrow your brows a bit as he pulls away.

“Make him feel good, baby” Choso hints and you think you get the idea of what he wants you to do.

Then he presses his lips into yours and carefully makes out with you. Ah Choso couldn’t help but forget why he was ever even upset with you. Why’d he call Gojo over again? What was all this for?

He was mad at you about something, right?

Oh who cares, all he wants now is to watch you lose your mind more than you already have as you get pleased by two men. And, he can’t deny he is a bit excited to taunt you with the help of Gojo— he makes things entertaining.

So he gets a little lost in kissing you, having not felt your lips on his in what felt like an eternity. Choso’s not even thinking straight as he groans against your lips and shoves his tongue into your mouth where it oh so rightfully belongs.

And he’s thriving in doing so up until you move a hand down and start reaching for him, your fingers grazing his waistline and making him moan into your mouth.

Your lips curve into a smile and you hum as he shifts so that you can reach him properly, your fingers sliding to grab ahold of his cock through his clothing and making him moan filthily against you.

His hips instantly push into your hand as your fingers cup his length. Choso pries himself off your lips for a split second, “Fuck, I missed kissin’ you s’much,” He grunts into your mouth.

You grin, “M’sorry, I m-missed you too baby,” You murmur against him.

Choso lets out the sweetest little whine as that nickname hits his ears and he had half a mind to just kick Gojo out of the situation entirely and make love to you.

Pulling away from your lips with a slight smile on his face, Choso huffs, “You have no idea what you do t’me, do you?”

You give him a cheeky little smile, “I do.”

Gojo suddenly clears his throat, “…Am I interrupting something?” He teases.

You and Choso look at him in sync and scoff at him.

You then roll your eyes, “Yes.”

“No,” Choso corrects, glancing at you once more to tell you to behave yourself through his gaze before looking to Gojo again, “You’re not.” Then Choso cocks his head to the side, “What, did you want a kiss too?”

Gojo’s got this little pout on his face after being left ignored for so long even though his cock had been sitting inside you all this time. He’d felt you clench and twitch around him numerous times ever since Choso walked in.

So, playfully, he shrugs, “Maybe.”

Choso rolls his eyes for a moment before he sits up, “Y’know, I was gonna say no buut, I have an idea.”

A very faint shade of red flushes over Gojo’s face as he blinks. Choso was considering his answer? He’s gonna kiss him? Why? What-

“If you can make my girl squirt,” Choso starts, cutting Gojo’s thoughts off, “I’ll give you a kiss…….. if that’s actually what you want, of course-“

“Okay,” Gojo breathes out and the two make eye contact.

Gojo looked all too excited and Choso couldn’t tell if it was to kiss him or make you squirt but either way— it was kinda cute.

Your boyfriend smiles briefly before looking down at you and nodding his chin toward you, “Remember what I said,” He hums.

You nod before looking at Gojo and then moving to sit up a little, holding yourself up on your elbows. Gojo meets your gaze and for a moment, he’s not even sure where to begin.

Choso chuckles at the two of you before he says your name and you look at him, “C’mere,” He directs, watching the way your eyes light up as he stands on his knees.

You’re quick to wiggle yourself away from Gojo, who lets off a whine as his cock slips out of you. The sound catches your boyfriend’s ears and he shakes his head.

“Relax,” Choso says to Gojo, “You’ll get to feel her again in a second.”

Gojo frowns and simply sits on his heels as he then watches you move to crawl over to your boyfriend, your legs wobbly and thighs wet from all activities done thus far. Then Gojo’s staring at your cunt and he starts to get the idea of what’s about to happen.

You hastily get to your boyfriend and just as he opens his mouth to say something, your hands are at his hips and your lips are making sudden contact with his lower abdomen. Choso swallows thickly as he stares down at you, moving his palm over your head of hair and smiling at you.

“Hahh,” Choso breathes out, “Eager, are we?” He taunts.

Your gaze flicks up to him for a moment as you kiss lower and your fingers slip beneath his pants. Then you’re tugging them down and moving to pull his cock out, your eyes going a bit wide as you see how painfully hard he was.

Choso’s cock was throbbing and twitching like crazy, so much so that it made your mouth water. You start to move your lips toward him but he pushes your head away a little.

Frowning, you glance up at him again and your boyfriend smiles down at you. Taking his cock into his free hand, he moves to tap his tip against your lower lip as he speaks, “Take care of our guest first, princess.” Choso hums.

You whine before angling your head back to make eye contact with a very pouty and slightly forgotten Gojo. With a sigh, you part your legs and reach a hand back to spread yourself invitingly.

Gojo bats his eyelashes at you, “Is that supposed to be an invitation, sweets?” He teases as a smile starts to spread on his face, cock dripping at the sight of you.

You nod your head, “Mhm…”

“You want me inside you again?” Gojo asks while he begins to move toward you, already knowing the answer to his question.

“Obviously,” You huff out, your gaze rushing him.

He takes his time anyway until he’s finally behind you, quickly aligning his tip with your messy folds and rubbing himself against you, “Thought I fixed that attitude of yours already?” Gojo says with a scoff.

Purposefully, you roll your eyes and start to face forward again, glancing up at Choso afterward.

“Baby,” Choso coos, his brows furrowing a bit, “Go ahead ‘nd arch your back, show him what you do f’me,” He utters softly.

You frown but do so anyway, the curve in your back making Gojo swallow hard as he takes in your form. “Damn,” He breathes, shifting a hand to palm your ass, “This is perfect.”

Choso can’t help but smile proudly because of you, “I know right? We gotta reward her for that, don’t we?”

Gojo nods his head but his eyes are stuck on how you’re trying to wiggle your hips back onto him, “Yeahhh, she’s so needy f’us too.”

Meanwhile, you’re also moving your mouth forward and pressing your lips into Choso’s aching tip— watching how his entire body tenses up and he flinches before looking down at you.

“S-So fuckin’ needy,” He unintentionally stammers. Then he moves one of his hands to your chin and opens your mouth for himself, “Nice ‘nd wide f’me, baby.” Choso instructs.

Naturally, you listen, dropping your jaw and even sticking your tongue out for your boyfriend as he carefully pushes his hips forward.

All while Gojo’s still teasing your cunt by rubbing his tip all in between your folds and even purposefully pushing his cock past your pussy wetting his shaft up with your slick.

Gojo’s hands then slide up along your body until he grabs onto your waist, still admiring that arch of yours before he finally rolls his hips forward and pushes his cock back into you. A moan leaves your throat immediately but the sound is muffled by Choso stuffing your mouth full of his cock.

Your boyfriend lets out a deep and guttural groan at both the feeling of your wet mouth around him and the way you moan against him. Then there’s Gojo who moans as he finds himself buried into the hilt of your tight cunt again.

Gojo swears you got tighter than before because he barely even realizes he has to move for a minute as he just sits there submerged in your pussy— feeling your walls clamp and clamp and clamp around him just because you’ve got two cocks inside you.

“Fuuuck,” Gojo whines a little, his head tipping back as you squeeze around him so perfectly.

While Gojo’s busy… adjusting to your pussy sucking the soul out of him, Choso’s in front of you easing his cock in and out of your mouth.

As he does so, you’re flicking your tongue against that one sensitive vein he has trailing along his shaft and the sensation makes your boyfriend moan above you. The sound stirs Gojo out of his trance and he blinks back into reality.

Glancing up, he pulls his hips back before rolling them forward so very slowly just to match the pace at which your boyfriend was going. And of course, you moan at how in sync they are, feeling Gojo’s tip kiss your cervix as Choso’s cock dips deeper into your throat.

All your moans were muffled against Choso and he groans just about every time he feels your warm mouth vibrating against him. Then there was every time he pulled himself back, your tongue would twirl around his tip so sloppily that he couldn’t even take his eyes off you.

Then suddenly Gojo’s pelvis snaps into you, the harsh thrust making you whimper while Choso’s dick slips right back into your mouth. Your boyfriend’s hand then finds its place on your head to hold you steady as he ups his own pace, biting his lower lip at how good your mouth feels.

“Shiit,” Choso whines and you feel him twitch against your tongue, “Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, princess.” You hum against him and he flashes a lazy smile down at you, his eyes low and breath heavy, “Enjoyin’ this, huh?”

Sloppily, you nod and then there’s a sudden jerk forward of your body as Gojo grabs onto your hips and snaps his own into you yet again. Your eyes flicker and you moan yet again.

Then Gojo lands a hand on your ass, smacking you harshly as he grows a bit rough, “Course’ she likes this shit,” He suddenly groans out, “Pussy won’t stop squeezin’ me,” He hums with a heavy pant.

Choso feels you suck on his cock a bit more eagerly and he starts thrusting in and out a bit faster as if to match how needy your mouth was moving against him, “Yeah?” He huffs out to Gojo, “Well,” Choso tilts his head and lifts his gaze to Gojo, “Looks like you’re strugglin’ over there.”

Gojo’s brows push together and he pants, “Shut up,” He grunts as he shifts to fuck into your sweet spot, feeling how heavenly your cunt throbs around him and listening to the wet squelch that emits from your hole every time he pushes in.

Your boyfriend feels you gag a little and he eases his hips back but doesn’t look down at you just yet— keeping his eyes on Gojo who’s definitely losing his mind right now.

His hair was wet with sweat, messy white locks sticking to his forehead and sweat dripping down along his body. Choso thinks he’s jealous of this guy’s physique as he stares at him, watching how aggressively he beats his hips into you— his slutty lil’ girlfriend.

Gojo’s eyes suddenly flicker and Choso’s feels you moan. The white-haired man then whines, “S-Shit, m’gonna-, fuuck… m’gonna cum-,”

Choso’s fingers suddenly curl into your hair and he grips onto you a bit tighter as he ruts his hips into you, your nose meeting his pelvis with his every thrust as he mindlessly fucks your throat.

“Yeahhh, I can tell….” Choso blurts out, his face instantly going red as Gojo locks eyes with him and raises a brow.

Gojo, never being one to back down from some harmless teasing, rolls his hips into you and huffs, “Oh can you now?” He sighs, cracking a half-smile at the man.

The red in Choso’s face deepens before he shifts his gaze down to you, “Fuck off ‘nd focus on makin’ my girlfriend squirt.”

Gojo grunts a little as you squeeze around him, “Kinda hard t’do that when you’re starin’ at me, y’know.”

“You liked it,” Choso argues back thoughtlessly.

Now it’s Gojo’s face that was brightening up, his eyes widening as he opens his mouth to argue back. Unfortunately for him, you suddenly pull your mouth off of your boyfriend and shift to lift yourself up and grab ahold of Choso’s jaw.

Your boyfriend bats his eyelashes at you as you toss one arm around him and hold his face close to yours whilst Gojo continues thrusting into you.

“S-Stop flirting with him, it’s annoying,” You huff out, your voice slurred as you moan in between your words.

Choso blinks, “I wasn’t-, wait… baby, were you gettin’ jealous?” He coos.

Gojo shifts behind you, leaning his body forward and wrapping one arm around your waist before trailing his hand down. His fingers roll over your clit and your body twitches as his lips suddenly press into the side of your neck.

You were being sandwiched by the two at this point but you weren’t complaining at all.

“Scared m’gonna steal your boyfriend from ya’?” Gojo taunts in a low whisper.

Your brows furrow and you remove your hand from Choso’s jaw, dropping it to wrap your fingers around his cock possessively, “No… he knows who he…. mmgh-, b-belongs to,” You huff out as you stare into your boyfriend’s eyes.

Choso chokes at the sound of that and to make it even worse for him, Gojo peers over your shoulder, and all three of you are all too close to one another.

His hips push into your touch and he whimpers, “Y-Yeahh, yeah I do,” Choso sighs out, nodding his head in agreement to your words.

And then your lips are on his and the two of you are a moaning mess against one another, Gojo moving to sink his teeth into your shoulder just to never once feel left out. He bites down hard enough to leave a mark and then Choso moves a hand in between you and him just to reach up and grab ahold of your neck.

Their touch was everywhere at this point, large hands all over your body that it was making you dizzy. Choso’s fingers tighten around your throat, Gojo swats at your clit again as his cock bullies your insides, and then there’s his other hand at your waist, holding onto you for dear life whilst his tongue swivels over the area he’d bit.

Your hand was busy jerking Choso off and the bedroom was filled with such sloppy and filthy sounds of sex. You and Choso were whining into each other and Gojo was grunting near your ear.

Then, similar to earlier, he’s talking into your ear, “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” Gojo groans, “Fuuck, m’gonna cum inside ya’ if you keep squeezin’ like that.”

Choso suddenly pulls off your lips and you whine. Then your boyfriend glances at Gojo, whose face is closer than he expected, “Y-You’re gonna do what?” Choso questions.

All three of you were more than fucked out by this point but Choso’s ears twitched at the sound of Gojo saying he was gonna release inside you.

Gojo smirks, “What? I can’t cum inside your girlfriend? C’monnnn, don’t be mean,” He teases with a little pout on his face.

Your head drops into the crook of Choso’s neck, his hand falling off you as you do so, and his face gets even closer to Gojo’s because of it— the two nearly sharing breaths by this point.

“M’not bein-,” Your hand tightens around Choso’s shaft and his eyes nearly roll back, “S-Shit-, m’not bein’ mean, y-you can’t-“

“Please?” Gojo whispers, his eyes lowering and his face shifting into something needy, “Lemme cum inside her, p-please? She feels so fuckin’ good… I gotta-, agh-, f-fill her up,” Gojo moans out.

Both men are struggling with their words due to you. Then, your hand begins to slide along Choso’s cock a bit faster than expected and you take a peek down just to realize he was cumming.

“Oh fuck-,” You whine at the sight, “Choso,” You moan.

Gojo lets out a loud groan and he starts drilling into you a bit sloppier than before, his sanity waning as his orgasm approaches, “Please,” He begs, “P-Please? Fuuck, I can beg all day, man. Please-“

And suddenly, Choso’s leaning in and grunting into his mouth, “Okay,” He hums as he suddenly acts on impulse and kisses Gojo.

Your body was being completely squished between the two and with each of Gojo’s mind-numbing thrusts, your body just presses into Choso’s. The tip of Gojo’s cock is digging and digging and digging deeper inside you, making your eyes water with how hard he was fucking you all because of Choso suddenly kissing him.

And the two had the nerve to be loud with it too, lips sliding over each other so messily as they kissed each other without second thought.

You believe you were too out of it to even process the fact that your boyfriend was making out with Gojo because then you’re experiencing that mind-boggling sensation again, gummy walls suffocating Gojo’s cock as your body jerks and twitches in between the two.

Then, all at once, you’re seeing blissful sparks of white in your vision, making a filthy mess in between the two as Gojo’s cock slips out of you and you squirt yet again. Choso’s hands move to hold your body tenderly as you start to fall over a bit and then his mouth pops off of Gojo’s.

“Fuck,” The two breathe out in unison.

Gojo’s eyes are down on the lewd mess you just made and he notices his cum leaking out your cunt— wondering to himself when it even happened? One minute he was begging Choso to cum inside you and the next…

The next he was kissing him…

Meanwhile Choso’s dazed as he shifts to get a good look at your face.

You think you were a bit lightheaded, lashes fluttering so softly as you pant heavily trying to catch your breath. Your eyes just barely meet Choso’s and he smiles at you.

“You okay?” Choso murmurs. You frown and shake your head. “Tired already?” Your boyfriend continues, then you nod and he moves to kiss your forehead, “S’okay, baby. You did s’good for us.”

Gojo’s behind you moving to wipe the sweat off his forehead, “Too damn good…” He comments.

Your eyes narrow at your boyfriend and your voice is hoarse again, “…You kissed… him.”

Choso’s face flushes and he swallows, “I was in the heat of the moment, I’m s-“

“And it w-was so fucking…” Your body leans into him a bit more as you shut your eyes, “…Hot.”

Both Gojo and Choso are at a loss for words and neither of them really wants to discuss what they just did, both telling themselves that they weren’t thinking straight (literally) despite both of them having thoughts of doing so a few times throughout the night.

Choso starts shifting to wrap his arms around you and move you away from the… filth below, just to lay you down as you start yawning.

Then, he hovers over your face and watches how you sleepily blink at him, “No more sex-ban, right?” Choso whispers.

You pout but close your eyes, “…Mhm.”

He leans down and kisses you, “Promise?”

“S’long as you invite Satoru over again, yeah,” You hum.

Choso freezes and glances back to Gojo for only a second, before smirking and looking back down at you, “Yeah sure, whatever you want princess.”

he’s definitely inviting Gojo over for himself, not you.

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

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oukabarsburgblr · 2 days

Text

Oils and Incense [Masseur AU]

FEATURING : AITO SOUSUKE (OC) X male reader

Following your friend's suggestion, you went to a health & beauty spa, specifically for a massage and you're surprised to find a fellow student working there as a part-timer. What's that smell and why do you feel so hot? This was the wrong room? Your body won't be the only thing getting oiled up!

dubcon af, rough sex, aphrodisiac on both ends, shady reader(?), sousuke munching, profile

Find out more under the cut!

"All the rooms are full?"

The clerk standing at the register nodded with a polite smile on her face. (m/n) frowned, feeling the ache on his shoulder weighing on his figure.

It had been a harsh week for the (h/c), catching up on his assignments, managing his club activities and after sleeping on his desk for a week straight, his muscles were tense and in pain.

His friend, Daisuke, had suggested this place, a high-end beauty spa and of course it was expensive that motherfucker was loaded. But you decided to treat yourself, as a reward for getting through the semester and you drove over to the place after your classes.

Unfortunately for him, all the rooms are filled and busy.

"Well, we do have a private room available. Although it is usually booked in advance for regulars, I can make an exception for you." She winked at him, feeling sorry seeing the (h/c)'s tired expression. "I'll take it."

"And what kind of package would you like?"

(m/n) didn't bother reading the whole brochure, only skimming through the numbers. "Two hours, please."

The lady escorted her to the room, opening the door inside and (m/n) awed at the interior, fluffy flooring, multiple candles on mahogany cupboards with decorations to make the room more presentable with gold and green highlights with a warm lighting to compliment the whole design.

A massage table stood in the middle, layered with a white covered mattress and a hole for the face in the head area. "The rooms are designed for your privacy and comfort, thick walls and we provide a change of clothing afterwards. Your assigned masseur will be here soon." He thanked the lady and placed his bag on one of the lush seats.

(m/n) stood in the room idly, peering at the ceramic dishes and balls before hearing a conversation outside.

"Make sure you take the right incense and oils, okay. He's not one of the usual clientage." The woman from before seem to be speaking to someone. The masseur perhaps.

"Yeah yeah, I know." The voice replied with a drag, implying annoyance followed by a smack.

The door opened and (m/n) turned to see a familliar person, holding a basket of bottles and taper candles. Said person, with his long red hair in a claw clip with strands sticking to his forehead, froze seeing the (h/c). He had adorned the usual white piece, what masseurs would usually wear.

"You..." He seemed to be taken aback, although his face doesn't show much, (m/n) could definitely tell he knew him and vice versa as well. "...We go to the same university, right? Keio Shiki?' (m/n) broke the awkward silence with a nervous grin.

The redhead seemed to snap back out of his trance as he coughed into his fist and moved to one of the cupboards, setting up the session, placing the taper candles in its holders. "Yeah, we do." He replied dismissively.

"We shared a class once, too. Aito? Was that your name-?" "It's Sousuke. Just Sousuke." (m/n) tensed, nodding quickly as he rubbed his nape.

(m/n) had seen Sousuke around campus before, always alone and keeping to himself with his muted red hair that had always caught his attention. When they shared a class together, the (h/c) had attempted to converse with the redhead but was ignored or only received half-assed answers.

He only knew snippets about the redhead from his peers, who told him to stay away from the man, saying that he brought trouble everywhere he goes. However, (m/n) thought of otherwise.

"So you work here? I thought your dad runs a dōjō." It's not everyday you get to talk to the brooding guy in your prestige university, especially when he's supposed to service you. (e/c) eyes gazed at him with a smirk, teasing the redhead whose hazel ones squinted at him.

"...It's temporary. Until that old man gets off my back." He mumbled, lighting one of the candles with a long nozzle lighter, clicking it a few times. The (h/c)'s eyes still wandered, lingering on his muscular back the white uniform couldn't hide. "Do you remember me? You looked shocked when you first walked in here-"

(m/n)'s words were cut off as Sousuke promptly pressed a white fluffy cloth to his chest. "I do. (l/n)." The redhead emphasized, pushing the article on his chest with pressure. There's a hint of annoyance but (m/n) can see the tip of his ears turning red.

"You can call me (m/n)." His lips stretched a smile, cheekily looking up at the redhead through his lashes.

Sousuke stared for a second before turning away. "Change."

The (h/c) held the cloth Sousuke had given to him, it was literally just a white fabric meant to tie around his waist. "Just this-?" "Yes." Sousuke huffed as he turned back to the (h/c), his fingers snapping a pair of black latex gloves on his hands. "In other words, strip."

"Will do." (m/n) whistled, pulling his clothes off.

The redhead rolled his eyes, rummaging through the cupboards as the (h/c) had his fun teasing the former.

Sousuke did not expect the (h/c) as his customer for the evening. His father had sent him here for work since he had broken three sandbags at the dōjō, apparently his old man's friend owned the place and needed a pair of strong hands to cover a few shifts. Unluckily, Sousuke had been taking a degree in physical education so he was more or less qualified to work here.

However, the clerk suddenly called him on his break, saying that there was a fill-in in one of the private rooms, he was never allowed to step in there by the way, and the woman told him that there was someone looked like around his age while lecturing him about grabbing the right bottles or whatnot.

Sousuke had mindlessly grabbed the basket for the private rooms, there can't be much difference there can it? Probably just the brand itself or whatever.

Fuck, why is he here? Sousuke grumbled silently. He had known the (h/c), (m/n) (l/n) who had caught his eye ever since he walked on campus. His stupid cute smile, really nice build and those fucking thighs-

He snapped himself out of his thoughts hearing shuffles of clothing behind him as he lit the incense and waving the smoke around, letting it dissipate. Something smelled weird. He's dealt with incense before but this one smells more honey?

"I'm done."

The redhead had to stop himself from looking too much as he ushered the (h/c) to lay stomach down on the massage table.

(m/n) pouted, seeing the redhead was quick to place him down as he straddled the massage table, putting his head in its place and his face facing the floor through the hole.

Sousuke helped him place his legs on the rest of the table, his large gloved hands pulling his calves up before setting it down, avoiding looking at the (s/c) presented before him.

The (h/c) felt like he was purring in bliss. "It smells...sweet?" "It's the candle. Nothing much." Sousuke reassured (m/n) and himself, he had never used this specific candle before.

Taking a bowl of warm water, he placed three different sizes of ceramic balls or spheres, letting it sit in the liquid while the (h/c) attempted to start a conversation with him. "How've you've been? Anything interesting coming up?" "None of your concern." (m/n) scrunched his nose at the immediate rejection.

Was the room supposed to be this hot?

He felt warmer than usual, the blood rushing to the lower part of his body. (m/n) continued staring at the carpeted floor beneath him, talking to the redhead. "My team is having a practice match next week. With a university in the next town over."

Tilting the glass bottle, Sousuke dripped the oil in his gloved hands before rubbing them together, warming it up. "So?" "Will you come watch?" He huffed. "For what?"

"For me." There's a hint of flirt and Sousuke had to take a breather before nearing the laying (h/c), avoiding looking at his (s/c) legs. "I'll start now." "What-?"

(m/n) bit his tongue to prevent a moan from escaping his lips when warm gloved hands pressed on in between his shoulders. Fingers moving around, testing the waters as Sousuke gently spread the oil on his back like slicing butter on a piece of bread.

When the redhead felt the skin beneath him less tense, he slowly pressed his fingers deeper, kneading the muscle beneath him, rubbing his thumb in the notches and crooks of his shoulder blades.

Then he moved upwards, trailing his hand and poured more oil directly on (m/n)'s shoulders, letting it stain the cushioned table and he dipped his fingers in the skin between his neck and his shoulder, inching closer to his chest as he massaged his clavicle.

Sousuke was wondering why was the chatterbox underneath him was quiet. Usually customers would let out a satisfied groan every now and then. Maybe it was better for the redhead himself, not having to answer to the (h/c)'s incessant questions.

Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, sliding down the tip of his nose. (m/n) was holding in his breath, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when Sousuke's fingers massaged his nape, pressing his knuckles on the base of his neck, letting the pressure subside when he reached his hairline.

He had been holding in gasps and groans from his throat, feeling so pleasured with the service he's receiving. He felt more fired up than usual. (m/n) almost released a whine when Sousuke pulled his hands away, walking over to the front of him, where the bowl of water was and (m/n) stared at his legs, licking his lips.

"...Everything okay down there?"

Yeah I want you down here- "All's good." (m/n) felt his cheeks flushed, trying to focus back but his mind was foggy, all fuzzy and warm, he couldn't keep his head straight only thinking about those nice thick gloved fingers touching his skin.

Sousuke carefully picked up the smallest ball, placing it in the middle of (m/n)'s back, the latter letting out a noise of confusion. "It's a new thing they brought in. Constant pressure isn't good but the warmth helps and we've been receiving positive feedback..." The redhead muttered, stabilizing the sphere.

"Is it okay for you?"

(m/n) nodded drowsily. "Yeah, yeah. Anything's good from you." Sousuke's mouth gaped from the comment before looking away, grabbing the second ball while ignoring the butterflies raging wildly in his stomach.

"Don't move." He mumbled, balancing the second ball on his upper shoulders, near his nape. He rolled it around, using it as a tool before letting it rest on (m/n)'s body. Sousuke was unaware of the drooling (h/c) who was resisting the urge to utter the most sinful things human beings have ever heard.

The redhead paused, his steps stopping as he gazed at the taper candle, his eyes brimming suspicion before (m/n)'s voice brought him back to reality.

"Hurry up." He whined. Sousuke gritted his teeth, his cheeks warming at the cute noise the other had mewled out. "Be patient." (m/n) grinned. "Don't think you're supposed to talk back to your customers."

He heard the redhead sighed, his legs coming into his line of sight and Sousuke's face suddenly appeared close to his. "And I don't think you should be acting like a brat but here we are. Be quiet...and let me do my job." Hazel eyes stared up at him, his position crouching on the floor near the massage table.

(m/n) was silent, taken aback by the sudden proximity of his handsome face. He definitely got hard. "... Yes, sir." Sousuke groaned in annoyance, immediately standing back up, secretly adjusting his pants.

Immediately, he retrieved the third sphere, letting them all line up on (m/n)'s lower back, the latter letting out a guttural groan at the pressure. Hazel eyes leered at the (s/c) legs on display, sighing lowly as he poured another batch of oil on his gloved hands.

Steadily, he placed his hands on the (h/c)'s thighs, near the cloth and he dragged his palms down, pulling the muscle and knots all the way down to the ankle. Heat was looming all around his crotch as he massaged (m/n)'s foot, rubbing his fingers in between the appendages.

"You're like...mmn- really good at this."

Sousuke heard the drowsy comment from the mouth at the other end. "I work here. It's my job." "Wasn't it temporary?" "As I've told." "Wish it wasn't. I'd come for you everyday."

(m/n) was slurring his words, his cheeks flushed, his dick hard and sweat was dripping from his face to his nose. Fingers massaging him all over, caressing his thigh, pushing his skin and god he wished those fingers were in him.

Just fuck me- The (h/c) grinned to himself, not noticing the reddened masseur who pulled away, grabbing the spheres as well, eager to end the session already.

"Sit up. We'll work on your front next." "...My front?" "Yes. Is there a problem?" Sousuke went to grab a pillow to fill the hole in the head area so (m/n) could lie down on it but when he turned around, the (h/c) was on his side, his face looked embarrassed and he looked away when Sousuke's eyes travelled down to (m/n)'s crotch.

"...It's normal." The (h/c) frowned, mad that Sousuke isn't getting the hint. What the hell? Is it normal for customers to get hard after you massage them or what? (e/c) eyes glared at Sousuke, who was panicking in his head.

"And if I say it's intentional?" "I won't believe you."

He couldn't deny his slight attraction to the (h/c) and what the fuck why does he feel so hot right now? Sousuke staggered when the loop of his pants was tugged.

"Is it normal for you to get hard too?" (m/n) whispered into his ear, huffing his warm breath into the shell of Sousuke's ears that flushed at the contact.

The redhead looked down and he was indeed hard. Had he not noticed the whole time? Sousuke pulled away, facing the cheeky (h/c) who was kneeling on the table, the cloth around his waist barely hiding his erection and an amused expression on his face.

"Stop that." "You don't hate me." "I can." "I don't think you will."

What? Sousuke pressed his lips into a thin line, his head dizzy. (m/n) was so lax around him, closing the gap he had with others, toying with his boundaries like he was edging the redhead, wanting to draw a reaction out of him.

It's the same when they had first met too, when they shared a class. To (m/n), it was normal but to Sousuke, it was thrilling and confusing.

He was melting under the (h/c)'s gaze, his lips quivering and he felt his eyes water. "Are you flirting with me?" (m/n) purred. "Maybe." He winked and held out his hand.

The redhead swatted it away. He can feel his sweat building up on the collar of his uniform. (m/n) looked like a meal in front of him but he couldn't, his heart conflicted.

"Don't...play about these things. Don't toy with me." Sousuke stated, him placing down the pillow, covering the hole in the massage table, (e/c) eyes following him. "....I'm not."

Sousuke clenched his jaw, his neck tense as he felt fingers inching on his nape, tugging his claw clip. He yelped, his hair now loose, red strands laying on his back as the redhead glared at the (h/c).

(m/n) clipped the hair accessory onto his own tresses. "You should kick me out. I'm harassing you and all, aren't I?" The redhead stared at the now sitting (h/c) who swung his feet back and forth. He glanced at his hair clip on the (h/c)'s head.

"I ought to." "...You're hot, Sousuke." A cough escaped his lips, exasperated at the sudden confession. The redhead scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. (m/n) gleamed at him, glancing at the taper candles behind him.

"If you wanted to have sex with me, all you had to do was ask." "What?"

"You think I don't see that?" (m/n) jutted his chin to the candle holder behind Sousuke, the one he had lit up earlier. "Lucky Clover. Common choice but it does its job."

Sousuke snatched the candle out of the holder, blowing out the flame, his eyes scanning the brand name edged on the side of the candle. He had grabbed the wrong basket. "I didn-"

"Haa...now I'm all hot and bothered. It's not fair you're not as affected as I am." "I took the wrong candle. I didn't mean to-" "Whatever was your intention, it doesn't matter." (m/n) rested his chin on his palm, his body was coated with sweat, his back smooth with the oils Sousuke had rubbed in earlier.

"I have at least an hour and a half left. Now come here and do your job, masseur."

Something snapped inside the redhead at that moment, something raw and viscous. His feet slowly moved to the (h/c), settling behind him and grabbing a bottle of oil.

Sousuke should have never denied the attraction he had for the (h/c). His words that jumbled his thoughts, his eyes that made his legs quiver, his tongue that flicked against his teeth that made the redhead desire to grab his neck so he can-

(m/n) leaned his back against Sousuke's chest with a satisfied sigh, smudging the redhead's white uniform. Biting his lower lip, he grinned while staring at across the room. Sousuke was something (m/n) had wanted to solve, it wasn't a priority, but with the massages and the oils, it was like a candlelit dinner for him.

The claw clip was pulled from his hair, Sousuke swiping (m/n)'s hair back and clipped it in properly, (m/n) rubbed his cheek on the redhead's hand, the latter not responding and the (h/c) heard him picking up a glass bottle.

Slippery liquid trickled down his chest, Sousuke tilting the whole bottle on (m/n)'s torso letting it trickle down onto the (h/c)'s crotch. He placed the bottle aside, cracking his fingers. The redhead placed his arms underneath (m/n)'s own, looming his hands over his body before placing it flat against the (h/c)'s chest.

(m/n) gasped when Sousuke cupped his pecs, rubbing his nipples in between his fingers. "Mmnn!" He mewled as the redhead continued his work, massaging his man tit, rubbing his hands up and down as (m/n) gripped Sousuke's arms.

He squirmed when Sousuke's movements became rougher, squeezing his chest and essentially groping him. The redhead's right hand trailed down and rubbed the oil all over his stomach, kneading it into his side.

(m/n) was wrong when he had stated that the redhead was not affected as he is. The redhead had only not noticed. His will is strong, not something that is easily swayed by a mere candle.

Sousuke had bear flirts, jabs, and allure from the (h/c). He's a man. He has sensual passion. Although the redhead simply locked his aptitude to bite back deep inside himself. However, (m/n) was brave. Almost like he was aware Sousuke would let him trample all over him.

Hovering his tongue over the (h/c)'s shoulder, he licked a stripe experimentally. (m/n) flinched, his head turning to the side, looking with his glossy (e/c) eyes. He was panting disheveledly, Sousuke's hand still playing with his chest, gripping the fat and pinching his nipple.

The redhead leaned in closer, his face close with (m/n)'s and their breaths mixed. (m/n) was staring at the masseur's mouth, gazing over his lips and the redhead was looking for any sign of desire in his eyes until (e/c) met hazel.

There was only pure unholy lust. Sousuke pushed his mouth towards (m/n)'s awaiting lips. The latter moaning as they mushed their tongues together, exchanging drool and (m/n) was so excited as he sucked on the redhead's muscly organ.

"Aanh haa ah ah!"

Sousuke's right hand went lower, cupping (m/n)'s erection as he squeezed it lightly. The (h/c) bit his lower lip in response, the redhead gasping as (m/n) stuck his tongue inside Sousuke's mouth.

Tearing the fabric at (m/n)'s waist off, Sousuke grabbed (m/n)'s cock, pumping it up and down, earning whines from the (h/c). It was so slippery, so easy to move with the oil coating (m/n)'s skin and Sousuke gave no mercy to the (h/c) whose hips started to stutter in his hold.

(m/n) bucked his hips, loving the attention his cock was receiving as he pulled away from the makeout session. "I-I'm close- nggh ahh ang ahh!"

Ropes of cum spurted from his tip as Sousuke gripped his base, dragging out (m/n)'s orgasm. His hazel eyes had a fire in them, one (m/n) had ever since Sousuke laid his hands on him.

Drool seeped from his lips, (m/n) was in a daze as Sousuke laid his body on the massage table, letting him lie stomach down. He shivered when he felt the redhead pour more oil on his bottom, the liquid dripping on his ass, seeping and touching his twitching hole.

"You wanted this." Sousuke grunted, pulling off of his sticky uniform, revealing his sexy sweaty torso. His hand rubbed one of the (h/c)'s asscheeks before bringing it up and slapping it. The (h/c) yelped at the contact and Sousuke spanked him again, rubbing the oil on the cheek before swinging his gloved hand back down.

"Ah! F-Fucking- ah!" (m/n) screamed, feeling his cock twitch every time Sousuke smacked his ass. His hips stuttered he felt the redhead gripped and spread his ass, revealing his perky hole, Sousuke dipping his covered thumb in experimentally and scratched his rim.

Whining endlessly, (m/n) flinched as Sousuke spat on his hole, feeling the cold liquid trickle down. The redhead pulled his hips up, (m/n) hugging the pillow for stability, his nails digging into the fabric and pushing his face into the pillow.

Sousuke laid his tongue flat against (m/n)'s balls, licking up until he reached the wet entrance and he pushed a finger in, hearing a squeal from the (h/c). Digging inside, he shoved another gloved finger in to spread the hole with a scissoring motion. The (h/c) could only emit muffled cries, staining the pillow with his saliva.

The redhead licked his hole, a flinch from (m/n), and he pushed his tongue inside, brushing his fangs against (m/n)'s rim. He kissed, licked and spat on the twitching entrance, taking his time and ignoring the begging (h/c).

"P-Please- mmn ahh! I-I'm sorry- ungg mmn!"

Sousuke didn't want an apology from the (h/c). All he cared about was the ass in his hand he was eating right now. The redhead sucked on (m/n)'s balls while pistoning his fingers in and out of the (h/c)'s puckered hole.

He stopped when a hand grabbed his arm, Sousuke glaring down at the crying (h/c) whose back was facing him. "T-Too much. I'm s-sorry- mmn!" (m/n) cried, his tears and drool wetting the pillow under him.

"...Then what do you want?" Sousuke asked nonchalantly as he released (m/n)'s hips, letting him drop onto the table. (m/n)'s lower half was trembling.

"I w-wanna suck you off..." "Is this your apology?" (m/n) shook his head. "I want your c-cock in my throat." He mumbled.

Sousuke stared at him, (m/n) tried to calm down his nerves but his entire body was so hot, the oil covering almost every inch of his skin. "Get on the floor." He heard the redhead ordered.

Shakily, (m/n) pushed himself off of the table, landing on the floor on his knees with a pitiful whine. He turned to the unimpressed redhead who stood, his back leaning against the massage table, his flowing red hair framing his gorgeous face.

"I don't understand you, (m/n)." Sousuke mumbled, grabbing his jaw when the (h/c) inched closer to his crotch while on his knees, his (s/c) glistening under the warm spotlight.

Caressing the (h/c)'s inner thigh with his shoe, Sousuke gazed at his dripping dick, raising his line of sight to (m/n)'s panting flushed face. "You don't have to..." The (h/c) closed his eyes, enduring the tightening still gloved grip Sousuke had on his face.

"You're so...confusing. Pushing my buttons, testing my limits. I'm a man, (l/n)." (m/n) nodded drunkenly. "Handsome man..." He slurred and Sousuke rolled his eyes at that and extended his hand into (m/n)'s face who pulled off the drenched latex gloves with his teeth.

"I can't believe you're into this shit." The redhead raised his bare hand, slapping (m/n)'s face, not too hard but enough to leave a red mark. "You like this? You like getting slapped?"

Sousuke smacked the (h/c) again, who only cried out wantonly, his body leaning closer to the redhead's. "Does your friend know? That you're a fucking freak." (m/n) shook his head, tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm supposed to be special then?" (m/n) couldn't even talk properly, getting slapped for the third time. He only slobbered, his eyes peering up at Sousuke's hazel ones. "I-It hurts..." He whined.

The redhead released his tight hold, carressing (m/n)'s cheek. "Went too far, huh? Least' I know your limit now." He gently stroked the (h/c)'s reddened cheek fondly, as if its a way for him to say sorry. (m/n) purring into his touch.

Extending his hand, (m/n) tugged Sousuke's pants, sticking his tongue out eager to suck his cock. The redhead scoffed, his face expressing amusement. "You're cute, y'know?" The (h/c) pawed at the redhead's zipper, pulling it down and shuffling his pants off.

Sousuke pushed his briefs down, his hardened cock springing out and (m/n)'s eyes brightened, his tongue drooling and he whined even more, leaning closer into the redhead. Sousuke cooed, running his fingers through the (h/c)'s hair and he pulled the hair clip off, placing it on his own head.

(m/n) placed his tongue under Sousuke's tip, sliding it gently as he licked the base, caressing the veins. The redhead groaned, bucking his hips and accidentally gripped the (h/c)'s hair. Moving his head forward, the (h/c) took the long cock in his mouth, slobbering his spit all over the shaft.

It was a wonder how their dynamic switched. When (m/n) had first walked in, he was so adamant at poking at the redhead, now he was the one on his knees, sucking Sousuke's cock so desperately.

His cheeks hollowed as he hummed, (m/n)'s palate being grazed and the tip touching the back of his throat. He choked and coughed, Sousuke wanting to pull back but (m/n) grabbed his hips and shoved his own face into the redhead's crotch, his chin touching his balls.

"Anngg- mmff!" Sousuke held onto the table, his fingers clenching on the cushion as he closed his eyes, hot pleasure focusing on his dick and the (h/c). Cum shot from his tip and he was ready to pull out but (m/n)'s nails dug into his hips as he hissed in pain. Sousuke pulled his other glove off with his fangs.

The (h/c) sucked everything he could muster out of the redhead, letting the semen pool on his tongue as he shakily stood up and grabbed Sousuke's face, pushing his tongue in so the redhead could have a taste of himself.

Sousuke choked and gagged as the (h/c) shoved his tongue into his mouth as they stumbled, the redhead's arms around (m/n)'s waist and the latter around his neck. They planted themselves back onto the massage table, (m/n)'s back lying on the stained cushion and he spread his legs.

"Put it in." He breathed out, staring at hazel eyes who gazed back at (e/c), their sweaty foreheads touching each other. Sousuke took a breather and he adjusted himself, pumping his cock and lining it up against (m/n)'s hole.

"Just a second." The redhead spoke, he leaned forward, (m/n) stupidly clinging onto his body and rubbing his cheek against his face as Sousuke grabbed a decanter, biting the cork off and spitting it on the floor. The (h/c) rubbed his dick against the redhead's abs, letting his precum smear all over the rockhard muscles.

Sousuke pushed (m/n) to make room, tilting the decanter and pouring oil onto the (h/c)'s thighs, the liquid dripping down onto his ass and the redhead used his fingers to push it into (m/n)'s throbbing hole.

He also spilled the oil onto his own body, letting it drip from his chest and onto his dick, (m/n) now thrusting his hips to get the redhead's attention. "I know, I know." He mumbled, brushing his lips over (m/n)'s forehead.

Carefully, he held the (h/c)'s waist, adjusting both of them and he pushed in, the slippery oil letting him thrust all of his cock in one go. (m/n) let out a satisfied mewl, his thighs shaking as Sousuke pulled his cock out until only the tip nestled inside the twitching anus.

"Aannh ann ah ah ha ahh!" (m/n) wailed as the redhead began to pound himself with wet sloppy noises emitting around the room. Their squelching was so loud, the oil making their skin soft and wet as it smacked together.

Sousuke licked the (h/c)'s ear, his fangs biting the shell as the (h/c) spread his legs even wider, letting his ankles dangle in the air and the redhead slapped his inner thigh. "God you should've came here earlier." Sousuke groaned into (m/n)'s ear who nodded ferverently.

"Fuck fuck fuck." The (h/c) cussed with a moan , every time the redhead's cock kissed his prostate, his shaft dragging against his walls. Sousuke poured more oil on his base, as he pushed (m/n) down on the table, humping and fucking his meaty cock into his drenched ass.

The candle's waft still lingered in the air, although not as intense as earlier but (m/n) wished that it would last longer. His untouched cock was flicked by the redhead's fingers and (m/n) came, cum shooting out of his stimulated penis and it landed on both of their chests.

Sousuke wanted to kiss the (h/c), however he opted to graze his neck and sucked on the skin there instead, leaving hickies and marks. His hips stuttered as he shallowly thrusted into (m/n)'s bottom, his orgasm arriving and reaching its peak and (m/n) locked his ankles around the redhead, forcing him to still and cum inside his ass, filling his hole with his white batter.

(m/n) pulled Sousuke by his hair away from his neck and crashed his lips onto his and their teeths clashed. There were biting and saliva dripping from their chins, the (h/c) pushing his hips, indicating his want for a second round.

Sousuke climbed onto the massage table, asking (m/n) to kneel like him and he positioned himself behind the (h/c). He rammed himself inside (m/n) who arched his back and started to bounce himself on Sousuke's lap in time with his thrusts.

The redhead hands sneakily cupped (m/n)'s chest, groping his pecs and rubbing the skin. (m/n) whimpered when Sousuke scratched his nipple with his nails, pinching and twisting it as he continued slamming himself in and out the (h/c)'s throbbing hole, his previous cum spilling and dripping out of (m/n)'s rim.

(m/n) turned his face to the side, his (e/c) eyes begging Sousuke for a kiss as he stuck his tongue out. The redhead obliged licking (m/n)'s lips and kissing him again, them sloppily making out for the nth time already. The table shook with each thrust, shockingly still able to support the two.

Sousuke came inside the (h/c) again while (m/n) was pushing his ass back desperately for his own orgasm, the redhead gritting his teeth as (m/n) prolonged his climax by using his cock like a joystick.

Both of them lost any sense they had as they succumbed to their arousal, having sex on the table as much as they could. (m/n) was having the time of his life getting slapped, used like a fleshlight, begging Sousuke to fold him into many position and the redhead indulged in his cries, pushing him up against the cupboard, forcing him to ride his cock and they only stopped when the clerk had came back, knocking on the door while Sousuke was pushing (m/n) into a mating press.

"Is everything alright in there? Aito, the session is supposed to be over."

The redhead grunted out a half-assed response as he covered (m/n)'s mouth and quickly fucked himself inside the (h/c) making them both cum. (m/n)'s body was sweaty and slippery, his skin covered in oils and bite marks, his neck filled with hickies and his ass was dripping spit and cum.

Sousuke pulled the (h/c), pushing him and himself into the small shower station they had and quickly washed themselves clean, (m/n) begging the redhead for one last round and he unceremoniously followed through, making the (h/c) cum on his cock under the pouring shower head.

The redhead forced (m/n) to help him clean, changing the cushions, wiping the floor, throwing away the candle tapers so the clerk won't lecture him for using the wrong ones. Sousuke checked everything, making sure he didn't leave any evidence behind as he changed the drowsy (h/c) into a simple clothing the spa provided for customers.

He packed (m/n)'s clothes and his dirty uniform into a paper bag, clocking himself out of his shift as he left the spa hurriedly with the (h/c) hugging him fondly. Sousuke made sure to drive (m/n) back to his dorm with the latter's car, not trusting him to arrive safely as the (h/c) immediately passed out in the passenger's seat.

"(m/n), someone's looking for you." His classmate called him, the (h/c) lifting his head from the table he was sitting in. The class had just ended and (m/n) wanted to stay behind to finish his notes before his classmate yelled for him.

It had been three days since the whole massage thing and he couldn't find the redhead, not even at the spa. Hilarious to think that (m/n) actually went back searching for him but the clerk informed him that Sousuke asked for a few days off, him claiming that he had exams to study for and the (h/c) frowned, knowing that the redhead was avoiding him.

Understandably he was taken aback when he was met with the sight of the abashed redhead, who was standing with his hair still clipped in that purple accessory, his shoulder bag on his side.

"I thought we should go on a date. After that whole y'know." Sousuke handed him a singular sunflower, its stem jagged and (m/n) could tell that he didn't bought this at the florist.

(m/n) caressed the petals as he laughed. "Now which poor gardener did you stole from?" The redhead jabbed his finger behind him, the window showing the university's prestige courtyard with many beautiful flowers blooming, people won't notice one going missing.

"How sweet." The (h/c) smiled and Sousuke looked away, his ears reddened. "Let me grab my bag first. Where are we going?" "Eat. You need some meat if you want to win that practice match."

(m/n)'s heart fluttered, Sousuke remembered the practice match he had mentioned and he took it as a sign of him attending it for him as he hurriedly retrieve his books, shoving it in his bag as he skipped to the redhead.

"Told you I wasn't toying with you." The (h/c) teased Sousuke as he hugged his bicep. The redhead only rolled his eyes, letting (m/n) hang off of his arm as they walked through the hallway, earning weird looks from the rest of the students.

"The sunflower reminds me of you." Sousuke quirked an eyebrow, he had only chose said flower because it was the biggest one in the flower patch. "A flower?" "The sun." The redhead was silent, not understanding what he meant but shrugged. He'll let his potential boyfriend run his mind in weird places.

"Say...do you have it?" "Have what?" (e/c) gleamed up at the redhead. A knowing grin on (m/n)'s face as Sousuke slightly opened his shoulder bag, letting (m/n) peek inside.

The same candle taper, a new one, Sousuke had grabbed some from the spa. He'll cover a shift or two later and (m/n) kissed his cheek, the latter flinched and blushed heavily.

"Can't wait." The (h/c) was now pushing the redhead, eager to start and finish their lunch date so he could make room for their raunchy dinner that would last from the early evening to the dead of night.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts :

profile

I had debated the plot for this au but i didnt want it to be some random drugged bunny fuck so theres the convo, the trifling comm, and the buildup there. Everything is better w feelings involved and its good if its one that makes u think, its what gives character

I wished this fic was what debuted sousuke on my page argh. this might be my proudest work yet. When i meant rough I meant ROUGH

This will probably be my last one before i disappear for a couple of weeks. I'll reply to stuff but to post nahhh new sem starts soon so imma be super bz.

Haha i got happy cuz ppl commented on my last post so i shat this one out as quickly as i could.

comment lots and ill post lots mkay🍖

more of aito sousuke! 𖤓

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #x bottom male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader smut #oukabarsburg #aito sousuke #oc x male reader #oc #oc x reader smut #oc smut #oc x reader #Spotify #rough smut

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sunkissed-zegras · 3 days

Text

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "SAW UR POST AND HEAR U WANTED REQUESTS!!! paige x gf!reader where reader is uconns wbb media girl and it is SMUTT, paige like reading reader ab like “did u enjoy taking pics of me out there” BUT SMUT WHERE READER ALSO GIVES BACK TO PAIGE BC WHY R ALL THE FICS ENDING AFTER READER COMES? WHERES PAIGE??? (i’m going insane)"

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut! praise (lots of it), so much sweet tension, fingering, face-sitting (hooray!), paige being a cocky ass, teasing, just MENTION of a strap

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | this is my first time writing wlw smut so if yall have any feedback, it'd be greatly appreciated!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope yall enjoy mwah

"WE'D LOVE TO STAY BUT..." Paige shrugged, a cocky smile playing on her lips as her hand found the small of your back, beginning to lead you to the door.

As Paige's hand settled on the small of your back, her touch sent a shiver down your spine, her cocky smile igniting a fire within you.

KK and Ice exchanged looks, smirks playing on their lips. The game had went very well, winning 72-64. You'd gotten some pretty good pictures of the team as you usually do, but your focus was merely just on your girlfriend this time. You couldn't help but feel proud, especially with the shots you managed to capture of the team in action.

But right now, your attention was solely on Paige, her presence captivating you more than anything else. The thrill of victory mingled with the excitement of being with her, making the moment feel all the more exhilarating.

"Make sure to use protection!" You heard KK shout as you closed the door behind you, hearing the now muffled laughter of Paige's teammates' laughter.

You rolled your eyes playfully at KK's innuendo but she wasn't very far off. You didn't miss the way Paige wet his lips as she pulled you closer into her chest as you both began to walk to her car, leaving the restaurant the team decided to celebrate in.

Paige's fingers interlaced with yours, her touch sending shivers down your spine as you savored the closeness between you. As you reached her car, Paige turned to face you, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned in close and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.

You couldn't help but lean closer, letting her take complete control over the kiss. But before it could lean to anything, Paige leaned away as your lips formed a pout.

Paige laughed at your neediness as she gripped your hand. She leaned in once more, her lips brushing against yours in a teasing caress.

But before the kiss could deepen, she pulled back, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You're too cute when you pout," she teased, her voice laced with affection as she leaned her forehead against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the cool night air.

"You looked good tonight," you spoke softly as you looked up at your girlfriend. "Like, really good."

Paige's smirk softened into a warm smile at your compliment, her eyes sparkling with appreciation as she gazed into yours.

"Thank you, baby," she replied, her voice soft as she brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. "You looked sexy, with your little camera."

You rolled your eyes playfully averted your gaze as she laughed, before she gripped your face to get you to look at her. "That's the only word I could think of, sorry."

"Really? Not beautiful, pretty, gorgeous?" You teased as she let go of your face with a huff.

"Oh, come on, you know what I mean," she teased, her fingers tracing a gentle path along your jawline.

But before you could respond, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against yours in a needy kiss. "You're all of those things and more," she whispered against your lips.

A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you returned her kiss, reveling in the warmth of her touch. "Can we go home, please?"

"Of course, baby," she whispered, your voice barely above a breath as she reluctantly pulled away, the need to be close to you urging you forward.

With a shared smile, you both settled into the car, the engine humming to life beneath you as Paige drove off into the night. As you headed home together, hands intertwined, you felt your heart begin to race.

The drive felt longer than it should have, every squeeze of your hand making you feel more desperate. And Paige could tell but she didn't give you anything except the occasional rub of the hand, which made you go insane.

With one hand on the wheel and the other clasped firmly in yours, Paige drove with practiced ease, her confidence making you feel something only she could ever manage to do.

With a knowing glance, Paige turned onto your street and parked as quickly as she could. As Paige cut the engine, the silence that followed seemed to stretch on indefinitely, each breath heavy with anticipation.

Neither of you wasted any time as she guided you up the stairs of your apartment, giving your hip the occasional squeeze. The walk up the stairs felt like a blur, her touch sent sparks flying through your body. With each squeeze of your hip, Paige wordlessly conveyed her desire, her eagerness matching your own as you walked to your apartment door.

As you reached your apartment door, Paige wasted no time in unlocking it, the click of the lock echoing in the stillness of the hallway. With a shared glance, you both stepped inside, the warmth of the familiar space enveloping you like a comforting embrace.

The moment the door closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted, charged with a sense of desire. Without a word, Paige closed the distance between you, her hands finding their way to your hips as she pulled you close.

The heat of her body against yours was intoxicating, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. With a hunger that couldn't be denied, she responded in kind as your lips crashing together in a fervent kiss that left you breathless.

"I know I already said it, but you looked so good." Your hands found her hair as she planted messy kisses all over your neck and jaw, her grip tight on your hip.

The sensation sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing moment. With a soft chuckle, Paige finally pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours with a glint of desire.

"I'm glad you think so," she murmured, her voice husky with desire as she pulled back slightly to meet your gaze. "But you, baby, you're on whole different playing field."

She gave your lips one more kiss before she guided you to your bedroom, closing the door behind you. Paige sat on the bed as she pulled you into her lap, as your lips crashed into hers. You couldn't help but grind yourself against her lap, soft whimpers leaving your lips.

But Paige didn't give in, she just smirked against your lips as she held your hips. "Relax, baby."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "Shut up,"

Paige's eyes widen, a smirk on her lips as she gave your hip a harsh squeeze. "You really wanna talk to me like that?"

"Maybe I do," you retorted, your voice laced with playful defiance as you leaned in closer to her.

She then pushed you off of her as you scoffed, disbelief in your expression. You almost began to complain before she gripped your arms and pushed you on the bed, a soft moan leaving your mouth at the roughness.

She practically ripped your shorts off as she got on top of you, the cocky expression still evident on her face. Paige's lips found your neck as she began to give you wet kisses all over. Your eyes shut at the sensation, another quiet moan leaving your lips.

Her hands then moved the bottom of your shirt, taking it off as she began rubbing your hips. She sat up to take in your body, a prideful smirk on her mouth she squeezed your hips tighter. You felt yourself get red at her gaze, especially since you were half-naked and she was fully clothed.

"Poor baby," she whispered as she leaned and gave you kisses at the crook of your neck, your eyes shutting in pleasure as you became grinding against her hips.

Paige gripped your thighs and pried them open as she began rubbing your cunt through your underwear. "So fucking wet and I barely touched you. Do I make you that needy, huh, pretty girl?"

Her filthy words sounded like music to your ears as you moaned in affirmation, not trusting your voice to speak up. She then moved your underwear to the side, her middle finger finding your clit as she began rubbing it harshly.

The new sensation made your back arch into her hands, your eyebrows furrowing in pleasure. "Oh, fuck,"

"Yeah, pretty girl? I make you feel so good, don't I, baby?" Her words came out soft like honey as she applied more pressure to your clit, more needy moans coming out of your mouth.

It was embarrassing how quickly that knot in your stomach began tighten, how it'd only been a minute since she'd started and you already felt yourself come close to the edge.

And of course, Paige could tell. Her movements didn't falter as you came undone, the knot in your stomach snapping as you let out a cry of pleasure that echoed in between the walls of your bedroom.

You were breathless as Paige shoved her fingers into your mouth, and you sucked them clean. She smiled as she pried her hands away, replacing them with her lips.

Paige could taste you on your tongue, making her moan. She pulled away and began to move off of you before you gripped her hand, neediness evident in your tone. "I need you, please. Let me make you feel good."

Paige's smirk widen at your request, climbing back on top of you. "Mm, you sure?"

"Yes, baby. Please." You whined as Paige looked down at you, uncertainty in her gaze before she saw the desperation on your face. She smiled softly at you before she took off her shorts and underwear, throwing them off to the ground.

You were practically drooling at the sight of her, all of her. Your hands found her thighs as you pulled her on top of of your face and before she could even process it, your lips were in her cunt.

"Oh, fuck." Was all she could get out as her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. God, your mouth felt so good she couldn't help but behind to grind against your mouth.

She moved her gaze to look at you, her hands finding your hair as she began to run her fingers through your hair. She felt her breath hitch as you began focusing on her clit, her head falling back in pleasure.

"Good girl, fuck." She groaned out as your hands moved moved to rub her hips. Her other hand met yours, holding it as she began grinding faster against you. "Yes, baby. Keep going, oh yeah."

Your tongue moved faster against her and she felt herself coming closer and closer to the edge. "Just like that, just like that. Fuck."

Her grip tightened on your hair as she came, her moan filling your ears. She was breathless, trying to catch her breath as she finally opened her eyes to meet your cocky smirk.

She let out a breathless chuckle as she rolled her eyes, getting off your face. "You should do that more often."

"You should let me do that more often," you countered as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

Paige laid down on the bed, her chest still heaving as she kept her gaze solely on you. "I just don't wanna like, suffocate you."

"That would be a good way to go, though. And I know you like it," you smiled as she pat the spot next to her. You shuffled next to her, moving your head to lay on her chest.

"You're right, I like having that much control over you." She joked as she pulled you closer. "It's hot."

"You're hot," you replied with a playful grin, your voice laced with admiration as you leaned in to steal another kiss from Paige's lips.

"You're hotter," Paige countered as she pulled away from the kiss for a moment.

"You're the hottest,"

Paige scoffed as she rolled her eyes. "We really gonna play this game right now, baby?"

"Yep, whoever wins gets to the wear the strap."

Paige's expression shifted as she glared down at you. "You mean my dick? Yeah, um no."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#wcbb x reader #wcbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige x reader #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #ncaaw #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb

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ellecdc · 1 day

Note

hi!! i saw that you had your request open and i was thinking maybe poly! marauders + lily taking out (or asking) reader on a first date? i think it would be cute.

i read your last fic on them and i loved how you wrote for them! also i just want to say i love your writing!!

poor shy reader - thoughts and prayers fr

marauders + lily x shy!reader who go on a date

CW: continuation from this fic, fem!reader is in Hufflepuff, some nerves/anxiety, fluff

You’ve made a mistake.

You’ve made a mistake and think it might be too late to do anything.

“Are you almost ready? The Gryffindor’s bullied a first year into letting them into the common room and now they’re downstairs waiting for you.” One of your roommates advised you in a bored tone as she moved to sit on her bed.

You’ve made a mistake.

“Can you tell them I’m poorly or something?” You begged; tone inlaid with a shrill quality you tried to clear away. “I can’t do this.”

She looked at you like you had grown three heads. “What? You can’t go on a date with four of the hottest people in our year? Get a grip.”

“Please.” You tried again.

“I’m not a bloody owl, L/N.” She spat as she opened up a magazine, effectively shutting you out.

You stared at yourself in the mirror again; the fourth outfit you tried on for your date with the four Gryffindor’s you’d stupidly agreed to while still sat in Remus’ lap at the Gryffindor party where you’d actually sodding kissed Lily Evans.

You’ve made a mistake.

“Hey gorgeous.” You heard at your dorm room door, causing your room mate to groan dramatically as she fell backwards on her bed.

Lily’s auburn eyebrows furrowed at her before her eyes flit back to you; any tension immediately melting into a look far too soft to be for you. “Are you ready to go?”

No.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time; you were about to be escorted to Hogsmeade by the most beautiful people to grace the halls of Hogwarts arguably ever and you couldn’t help but feel entirely too plain.

Lily breathed out a chuckled through her nose and moved to stand behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror as she moved a lock of your hair behind your shoulder. “As much as I too would love to sit here and admire your reflection, I’m afraid it’s not wise to leave the boys alone unattended for too long.” She murmured as she pressed a kiss to your cheek.

They were going to be the death of you.

As if punctuating the end of Lily’s sentence and your thoughts, you heard a faint popping sound from the common room and the sound of chuckling.

“We ought to go.” Lily said, casually (for her…not for you) taking your hand and all but dragging you out of your room.

When you got downstairs, it was to the sight of first year Hufflepuffs glaring as menacingly as first year Hufflepuffs could as they all marched past the Marauders.

“What did you boys do now?” Lily chided playfully as they all turned to see you.

Their mischievous smiles quickly turned soft and sweet as they took you in.

“Oh my gods!” James exclaimed as he stepped towards the two of you. “My sweet Lily flower, where did you find this angel?”

Your gaze dropped immediately to your feet as Lily - the traitor - moved away from your side to stand near Remus.

“I’d ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven but, I don’t see a single imperfection, Gorgeous.” Sirius continued.

You huffed and crossed your arms as you looked across the room to see the first years still glaring at the group of you as they shed their - quite ashey - robes.

“Erm, why are the first years shaking ash off their robes?” You asked cautiously.

As if they had only just remembered that they’d been causing mischief a mere few moments ago, James and Sirius stepped into action.

“Oh right!” James said with an awkward laugh. “We, uhm, we should get going.”

And before you could ask any follow up questions (or ask to reschedule, perhaps), you had Sirius on one of your arms and James on the other and were being ushered from the Hufflepuff common room.

Helga help me.

The other four did most of the talking on your walk to Hogsmeade, which you were eternally grateful for. But you were now standing in line at Zonko’s - to which the boys insisted they go and Lily had left it up to you and…well…have you seen those boys? How were you expected to say no? - and you felt like every other student’s eyes were on you.

What is she doing with them? You could imagine them snickering to each other.

Think this is one of their pranks? Their friends would respond.

Evans usually isn’t the type but… it could be funny to watch anyhow.

Your body was itchy and your skin felt hot; you needed to get out of the store.

“Hey.” James murmured quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder as his body created a barrier between you and the other patrons of the store; strong arms wrapping protectively around your front as the other three pretended not to notice. “I think we lost you there for a second; you okay?”

You nodded, not quite trusting your voice not to betray your anxiety.

“Do you regret agreeing to come out with us?” He asked quietly; no ire or contempt detected in his voice. He truly was just trying to check in and make sure you were okay.

“No.” You responded firmly, quickly. Clearing your throat and responding again. “No, I don’t.”

You could feel James smile as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “We’re almost done here and then we can go wherever you want.” He promised; and though that had been the end of the conversation, he stayed glued (what certainly felt like possessively) to your side until you had all exited the joke shop and stood on the cobble stoned roads of Hogsmeade.

“So where do you wanna go, Princess?” Sirius asked as everyone paused to face you in a semi-circle.

For the ground to swallow me up, maybe?

“Erm, I…I’m not sure, I didn’t…really think about it.” You admitted awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle as if trying to shield yourself from your dates’ gazes.

Sirius looked like he was going to make a teasing remark when Lily elbowed him.

“Do you like sweets? Why don’t we head to Honeydukes; Moony needs to restock his chocolate stash anyway.” James offered jovially, turning towards the direction of the sweets shop without waiting to see if anyone was following him.

Sirius winked at a blushing Remus as he and Lily followed James and Sirius offered you his hand.

“Come on; I’ll buy you a pack of those sugar quills you like.” He said as he swung your hands between the two of you playfully, slowly following your little group towards the shop.

“How d’you know I like sugar quills?” You asked quietly, earning you a snort from the black-haired boy.

“Do you know Lily’s favourite lolly flavour?”

You felt your cheeks heat but nodded. “Cherry.”

He made a quiet proud sound as he carried on. “And James? What does he like from Honeydukes?”

“Jelly Slugs - particularly the watermelon flavour.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement and bumped into you before continuing to swing your arms together. “And mine?” He asked; and if you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of vulnerability in the notoriously cocky boy's voice.

You smiled up at him at that. “The Peppermint Toads.”

That caused him to beam at you, looking down at your lips before his brows furrowed slightly and he dropped his gaze shyly to his boots.

“And how do you know our favourite sweets?”

You grumbled and went to pull your hand away from him, but he held fast. “Because I’m a creepy tosser.”

He let out an offended scoff at that and pulled you over to him, tickling at your sides in punishment. “You are not a creepy tosser, you little minx!”

He relented his attack on your sides as you fought to catch your breath; staring up into his silver gaze in anticipation - for what? You weren’t sure.

“Is it because, perhaps, you fancy us?” He offered.

You lowered your head to his chest; embarrassed at being known, perceived, caught in your obvious affections for them - notwithstanding the fact that you’d actually accepted an invitation for a date with them which should have tipped them off anyways.

“So,” Sirius continued, resting his chin on top of your head and pulling you in tighter to his chest. “Shouldn’t we know the same of you if we were to fancy you?”

You sucked in a deep breath - definitely not savouring the smell of sandalwood and mint emanating from Sirius’ chest - and pulled away.

“It would have been quite brash of me to assume so many Gryffindor’s could possibly fancy me.” You admitted quietly as you carried on towards the shop where James was waiting rather impatiently as Lily tried to convince him to stand still.

“Then be brash, darling.” Sirius drawled. “‘Cause it’s true.”

“Don’t kill the poor thing before we’ve a chance to spoil her, Pads.” James called as Lily and Remus smiled at you.

“I’m not, I’m not.” Sirius grumbled as he swatted James’ arse and all but forced him into the store.

“Can’t believe you didn’t kiss her.” Lily hissed as they walked ahead of you and Remus.

“I was nervous!” You heard Sirius whisper back.

“Nervous!?” James and Lily bawked; you and Remus sharing a shy, awkward smile as you pretended you couldn’t hear them.

“Come with me.” Remus finally offered, motioning towards the wall of Chocolate Frogs with his head as he took your hand. “We’ll find them later.”

You and Remus walked through the aisles as he told you stories of Sirius, James, and Peter trying each and every one of the sweets (even the silly ones). Apparently, they learned Peter was allergic to earthworms due to an unfortunate selection of Berties Botts Every-Flavour Beans.

“How was that the thing that tipped him off? Did he never try picking one up as a kid?” You asked through a laugh.

“Right? What kid doesn’t spend time making mud pies and catching earthworms? We figured just for that, the sod almost deserved to go anaphylactic.” Remus joked with no real malice.

You approached a stand of sample chocolates that caught Remus’ eye.

“Hm, nutmeg Cauldron Cakes; that looks good.” You commented as you considered the pastries.

Remus’ mouth tipped up in a mischievous smile as he quickly picked up one of the small samples and held it in front of you.

“Open.”

You stared at him dumbly. “I…I’m sorry?”

His smirk only grew as he kept his eyes on your lips. “Open.” He instructed again.

Not willing to stand here with a pastry held in front of your face asking stupid questions any longer, you acquiesced and allowed Remus to feed you the pastry.

He moved, likely slower than necessary, and just as you went to close your mouth, he paused his movements and slowly slid his thumb between your lips, pulling your bottom lip down as he went.

You didn’t realise you’d been standing there in shock until he raised an expectant eyebrow at you, prompting you to chew the treat now sitting idly on your tongue.

“Good girl.”

Merlin’s fucking tits, he was going to make you choke.

Apparently you weren't the only one, if the sound of James’ strangled groan echoing from where he, Sirius, and Lily had been standing and staring at the two of you.

James looked like he couldn’t tell which of you he was most jealous of, Sirius stood staring with his eyebrows up near his hair line and his mouth wide open, and Lily watched with a knowing smirk adorning her face.

“Was it good?” James whispered over to you.

You nodded dumbly, looking up at Remus as if you were somehow asking for his agreement.

“Better let me confirm.” He murmured as he leaned down; one hand cradling the back of your head and the other tilting your chin up to meet his lips, though he stopped just before they connected.

You could feel the gentle puffs of Remus' breath hitting your lips from where your eyes were glued to his mouth. When it became obvious you were at a stalemate, your eyes flitted up to meet him.

His eyes were on yours as they danced with a mixture of mischief and questions.

Questions.

...“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”...

And you weren’t a Gryffindor; you weren’t brave or bold, nor were you daring. But dammit, you were a Hufflepuff; you had a propensity for hard work, and you could do hard things!

So, you let your eyes fall back to Remus’ lips before you closed the distance between you two.

You felt him smile into the kiss before he deepened it, finally pulling away with a pleased hum though he kept his hands on either side of your face.

“She wasn’t lying, Prongs; it was good.” He called over, gaze never leaving your face.

You heard what you could only imagine was Sirius’ boot stomping petulantly from his place as Lily barked a laugh at him. “I was this close to being the second one to kiss her!”

You dropped your head into Remus’ chest only for him to chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Better luck next time, Pads.” He taunted.

You officially knew your suspicions were correct: the Gryffindor’s really were trying to kill you.

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targaryen-dynasty · 1 day

Text

THE CURSE OF CURIOSITY.

Aemond Targaryen x twin sister!reader

"While your brother searches the library of the Dragonkeeper Elder for something new to read, you come in contact with some unlabeled fluid. You both learn that it's something meant to aid in the breeding of dragons, however, it also has a unique effect on humans. But lucky for you, your twin is there to help you through the ordeal."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest, dub con, sex pollen (rather fluid lol), p in v, breeding kink

WORDS: 4 K

NOTES: Hope you enjoy me having literally zero grasp on English. 🤭

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

“It’s far too late for us to be here,” you huff, almost annoyed, as you watch Aemond graze his fingers along the spines of the several books kept in the currently deserted chambers of the Dragonkeeper Elder. “What are we looking for here anyways?”

The room is barely lit by anything else than just a handful of candles. Your twin holds a lantern of some sort in one hand, using it to make out the writings that are carved on the books backs.

When there doesn’t immediately come an answer from him, you start to slowly walk around the room, inspecting its decor. “I have exhausted the castle’s libraries, and hope to take something of their collection for my own,” he murmurs, carefully selecting two books.

You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. Although you’re just a few moments younger than him, sharing the same attributes with your long, silver hair and lilac eyes, you have a much gentler nature than he does, one that doesn’t lend itself to the same mischief you had pursued together as children anymore.

“And you couldn’t have just taken Floris with you? You ought to wed, and doing something together would do no harm to your future union. One sparsely sees you two around court,” you note, slightly annoyed your brother chose to wake you instead of his betrothed.

Knowing all too well that just the mention of the betrothal is going to set him off, you choose to play with fire. If your brother wants your company, he’ll have to put up with your teasing. And just like expected, the notion of being forced into a marriage he doesn’t want to be in irritates him, audible in the sigh he releases. His resentment of the situation has become worse over time as he feels more and more suffocated by the ordeal.

“The girl is as dull as stones. Besides,” he replies with a shrug, “she knows nothing about our family’s history, much less about dragons.” The topic of dragons is something your twin is very passionate about, and you know that the fact that his wife-to-be cares so little about his passion infuriates him. It might be one of the main reasons for his dislike of her. “I have no desire to have Floris at my side any more than she does me.”

His annoyance is palpable, but you don’t feel bad about making it worse. For all the hours he has spent teasing, taunting and annoying you while you grew up together, he gets it back twice and three times over. And although he hasn’t spoken it out loud, you know you’re one of the few people he trusts blindly to be himself around.

“That aside, it would be foolish to read with Floris,” he continues, your silence coaxing him to speak more, “as all she does is gossip with her friends and prattle on about pointless nonsense. You of all people know best how I feel about this match.”

“Floris isn’t so bad, you know,” you defend with a low voice. “And you’ve barely tried to get to know her. Surely you can find at least one thing to like about her. If you did, you might just see she’s not as terrible as you’ve decided.” If you both have to spend your days withering away in marriages sealed by your father and mother, you at least could find a little solace knowing your twin wasn’t as miserable in his.

Aemond sighs in frustration. “You sound just like mother,” he comments dryly, finally moving to look at you from over his shoulder. “Can you really say that you like her? She is dull and naive. I am certain I couldn’t find anything to like about her even if I had all night. There is nothing for me to like about her. Nothing at all.”

Finding yourself at somewhat of a loss of words at this, you open and close your mouth without any words leaving it. Part of you wants to disagree with your twin, as Floris hasn’t been entirely unpleasant to spend time with at court, which makes Aemond’s dislike for her appear entirely without reason to you. On the other hand, you’ve known your brother long and well enough to know when he is resolute about something.

“Just promise me that you won’t be a terrible husband to her. Even if you don’t like her, don’t make your lifes awful,” you finally blurt out.

As you allow your gaze to trail through the chambers once more, you spot some small vessels standing lined up on the desk in the far corner with books and scrolls littered around them. You don’t wait for Aemond to reply as you make your way over, determined to inspect the small containers. The liquid inside of them resembles milk of the poppy, although it’s slightly more permeable to light when you hold it to one of the candles.

You hardly think about the dangers coming with it when you open the lid to inhale a whiff of the fluid. Not smelling entirely unpleasant, it still has you scrunching your nose as a slight burning grows prominent in your nose and throat.

Placing the vessel back down rather quickly, it stands too close to the edge of the desk. You’re not quick enough as it falls to the ground with a clatter, the vessel shattering into pieces and the pale liquid spreading across the floor.

“By the Seven,” you mumble, sinking to the ground to collect some of the larger shards.

The sound of breaking glass and your sighing is enough to catch your brother's attention again. Where he has read the spines of the books before, he makes his way over to the source of the commodation now. “You shouldn’t have dropped that,” he comments dryly, which prompts you to shoot him a heated glare. “Oh, you don’t say, mh?” you reply, your voice laced with sarcasm.

Reaching for another shard, you pull your hand back with a hiss when it cuts your finger. “Ouch!” you exclaim and rise to your feet, soon enough spotting the crimson oozing out of the cut.

Despite his annoyance at your clumsiness, Aemond’s good eye is drawn to the cut you have given yourself. It’s no deep wound, but even the hint of your blood makes something akin to guilt bubble in his stomach. “What were you doing with that?” he inquires, as he takes your hand to inspect your finger, nodding towards the vessels still standing on the desk.

You watch him twist and turn your hand to have the perfect look of the wound, the stinging pain suddenly not too bad with his warm skin on yours. “I… I just wanted to see what they keep here. It is unusual for anyone other than the maesters to store unmarked liquids,” you reply, hissing as Aemond pinches the cut finger a tad too tightly. “I shall see Maester Mellos. Mayhaps this needs stitching.”

“That’s an excellent idea.”

Aemond fetches the books he has chosen from the collection, holding them under his arm as he brings the other to you to place a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the Dragonpit.

On your request, the cut on your finger is stitched by Maester Mellos, although he has voiced that it wasn’t quite necessary. But something tells you the opposite, especially when you catch him staring at your face and checking your temperature more than once. “Is everything alright, maester?” you ask him with a soft voice, a yawn following.

Aemond towers over the both of you, carefully watching each move of the needle in the elder’s hands, just waiting for him to make a wrong move that’s meant to hurt you – he’s familiar with being stitched up after all.

The maester seems to be out of his mind, and only reacts as he hears you say his name. “Maester Mellos?”

His eyes are wide, but he nods quickly. “Yes… yes, princess. The wound should be able to heal calmly now.”

He is quick to pack his utensils up again, and even faster to leave your chambers at once. And while Aemond hurries after the old man, trying to catch up on him outside of your chambers, you don’t wait for any of them to return again with sleep coming over you.

The crackling of the fireplace is the only thing audible when you stir awake, a sheen of sweat covering your skin, making your nightgown cling to it uncomfortably. Your body feels as though it’s on fire when you squirm from one side to the other, not finding back to sleep. A tingling spreads in your loins, and each time your thighs squeeze together, it surges up your spine.

“Gods be good,” you whine, utterly bewildered with the feeling of liquid fire coursing through your veins.

Aemond not so silently rises from one of the chairs close to the fireplace, and comes closer to the bed, though, careful not to startle or frighten you as you regain your bearings. He has hoped you’d sleep through the entire ordeal and wake up as if nothing has happened, but that hope slowly dissipates with each passing moment.

“How are you feeling?” your twin asks, concern in his voice. Suddenly, hearing his voice allures you, and doesn’t diminish the burning at the apex of your legs.

As you clench your thighs together again, it releases some of the tension your body holds, and makes you whine in despair. “Aemond…” you pant, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths. “What are you doing here?”

The thin sheets covering your body do little to conceal what is happening beneath, and your brother just assumes it’s your way of trying to suppress your bodily urges ignited by the pale liquid you came in contact with before.

“I…” his usual confidence and boldness completely deserts him at the state you’re in, and he can barely find the words to tell you what he’s been told by Maester Mellos.

As he watches you writhe and writhe about on the bed, he’s unsure of how much longer he can just stand there and do nothing. But his concern and love for you cause him to make the decision to act, approaching you and reaching out to grasp your hands.

At the contact, the feeling of his warm hands fully engulfing yours, it’s like something overcomes your mind and body, luring you in to move, staring up at him with wide eyes as you sit on your haunches. “Dohaeragon nyke… kostilus,” you whimper, strands of your silver hair clinging to the damp sides of your face. “Ziry ōdrikagon.. sīr bāne. Nyke sepār – dohaeragon nyke, lēkia.” Yet you don’t quite know what exactly you’re begging for. Help me… please. It hurts… so hot. I just – help me, brother.

In the dim light of the candles, you spot his eye widening as you shift and squirm, looking up at him in such a vulnerable state with your innocent eyes, pleading for him to help you through your ordeal although you have no idea of what’s wrong with you right now. He can’t help but notice how your hair clings to your skin, seeming as if you’ve just bathed, and that your movements seem to contribute to its dampness.

“Mellos has told me what the fluid is that the Elder keeps in his chambers,” he states, trying to stay calm and not let your state affect him too much.

But with his proximity, all effort of you to process what he’s saying is fruitless. You pull on his hands, as if you want to encourage him to join you in bed, and when he doesn’t budge, you rise on your knees, and start to fidget with the buttons of his coat – solely driven by your urges. “And that is?” you mumble, not really listening.

His cheeks run hot when you start to undo the buttons, and his hands capture yours once again to put a stop to it, making you pout. With furrowed brows, his grip finally has you looking up at him. “It’s something used to aid in breeding the dragons,” Aemond states. “He told me it’s also used to increase their stamina and to make them more…” he trails off, his body slowly growing tense as the implication of what he’s going to say settles into his mind. “... receptive to breeding.”

“Mh–Mh,” you hum almost nonchalantly, and watch completely mesmerized as your fingers graze along his, the warmth and softness of his skin only intensifying the tingling in your loins. Aemond is hesitant, unsure whether or not what you’re doing is entirely due to the potion’s effect, or if there is genuinely some desire for him on your part.

You lick your lips and free your hands from Aemond’s to shrug the opened coat off his shoulders. The fabric of his tunic is pinched between your fingers as you tug on it once again to beg for him to join you. With him taking his sweet time, you find yourself clenching your thighs every now and then to soothe the aching burning at the apex of them.

“He also informed me that ‘tis necessary for someone to… help you through it,” he murmurs quietly, his voice almost sounding shaky as he speaks, “... for it will burn you from the inside out if not.”

Even though you’re fully acting on your body's desires, you do notice the way his widened eye trails down to your thighs, lingering there for a moment before it returns to yours.

You don’t give a verbal response to his words, and instead, your only reactions are subtle ones. Nodding your head slowly, as if you’ve understood what he is implying, your hands squeeze his tunic further into his chest. He can practically see your body tensing with each movement of your fingers, almost as if you’re trying to hold back.

With your eyes firmly locked with his now, you slowly trail your hands beneath his tunic, pushing it up to remove that as well from his body to get further access to him – if it wasn’t for him not raising his arms.

Exhaling a deep breath, you sit back on your haunches. His reluctance does little to quell the fire raging within you, no, it only fuels to make you even more desperate. The lacey hem of your nightgown rides up your thighs as you spread them, and fully exposes your undergarments the moment you bring your hand between your legs. A breathy whimper falls past your lips as your fingers finally make contact with your clothed cunt, and then something akin to mischief flickers in your lilac eyes.

“And… will you help me, brother? Or shall I ask Jacaerys for help instead? We ought to wed in a moon's turn after all,” your voice is honeyed as you speak, dripping with feigned innocence. “But you don’t want that, do you? That’s why you’ve stayed.”

You spot the exact moment his breath hitches in his throat. He suddenly feels a wave of heat overcoming him, your words triggering something in him that is more than just the usual desire to protect his younger sister, something primal. You sound and look so vulnerable asking for his help, secretly begging for him and him only.

Intertwining your fingers with his, the intensity of your grip increasing as your senses become more heightened, your twin finally moves as you pull him onto the bed. The mattress dips beneath his weight as you watch him come closer, and when he is close enough, you reach and pull him down onto you in a quick motion. You don’t waste a second more and lock your lips with his, your hand slowly traveling down his back. But before you can grab his tunic and pull it over his head, Aemond pushes you back to lie flatly on the bed, pinning your wrists above your head. His eye burns with hunger as he gazes down at you, visible even in the dim light, and it makes you yearn for more.

“Well, if I chose to leave you here to your own devices, would you crawl to your betrothed for help? I do not think so,” he says, his voice taking over a mocking tone. “No, in fact, I’m certain you would come to my chambers instead.”

When he doesn’t touch you, you try to wrap your legs around his body to grind yourself against him, but Aemond is quick to catch your hip with one hand, keeping your body still as it's pinned to the mattress.

“Sir, dohaeragon nyke,” you beg, voice shaky enough it comes close to a whimper. But when you notice that speaking in the tongue of your ancestors is not having any effect on him at all, you choose to coax him to tend to you in the Common Tongue. “Touch me, Aemond. Help me… please.” Now, help me.

Aemond is silent for a moment, visibly dragging his eye over your squirming frame. One hand still holds your wrists above your head, while the other slowly but surely releases your hip. “I shall take care of you,” he reassures you. “But you will have to let me, do you understand?”

You gaze up at him with wide eyes and slowly nod your head, only for you to pounce on him the moment your wrists are released. The tunic is gone as soon as your body collides with his, causing a strained gasp to leave your twin’s lips. While just the thoughts of his warm skin on yours have incite your mind already, seeing his bare chest sets your body alight.

His demeanor changes in the blink of an eye, and he has never treated you as roughly as he does when he pushes you off of him. It leaves you dumbfounded for a moment, more so when he moves between your parted legs, towering over you.

“Look how dull this fluid has made you,” he mocks, the condescending tone of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. Aemond notices that you’re not shying away from him, no, you keen at that. “Just because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself.”

“If I help you,” he warns, “no one else, let alone that bastard of a nephew, is ever allowed to touch you again, do you understand?”

It might be the liquid-induced state, or the despair to have him do anything to you already, but you’re far too eager to nod at his words.

Aemond’s hand wanders below the hem of your nightgown to heartily fist your undergarments and peel them off of you. He can already feel that the linen is soaked with your arousal, but still can’t stop himself from licking his lips as he sees your now exposed cunt glistening in the light of the candles.

“Now, we do not want you to suffer any longer, hm?” he asks.

And you nod once again. “Gods, yes, please. I need you, Aemond.”

You don’t have to beg him any longer. He undoes the laces in the front of his breeches and pulls out his throbbing cock, painfully hard and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s slightly curved and thick, and if you have to guess, you’d say that you need both hands to pleasure him, and even then there’d still be a bit of him that would be left abandoned.

Aemond wastes no time in lining himself up with your entrance, pushing into you as you both moan in unison. You don’t expect him to set up a merciless pace almost immediately upon fully bottoming out, but you’re not disappointed either.

While you’ve been able to talk before, he’s quickly reduced you to a whimpering and whining mess, relishing in the delicious burning of accommodating his sheer size.

“Does it help?” your twin asks through gritted teeth, desperately trying to keep his sounds of pleasure at bay. But you’ve been fucked into a stupor by him already, not even able to keep your eyes open. “Mh-mh,” you hum.

Putting some of his weight onto you, Aemond’s hand finds your throat like the most treasured necklace you only take off to sleep, taking up the entirety of your neck and leaving no room for you to shift even the slightest.

It was subtle at first, but the merciless pace slowly changes into something more determined, his hips rolling with each thrust as if he wants to make sure the tip of his cock really brushes your sweet spot every time. He’s seemingly spurred on by the way you’ve lost all inhibitions, not that the fluid allowed you to have any in the first place, and the wanton moans that spill past your lips.

One of your hands grabs his wrist, keeping his hand around your throat, while the other finds solace on his shoulder, gripping it tightly. Your nails dig into his alabaster skin, and you’re sure that crescent shaped marks will bloom there not long after, staking your claim on him.

“But you need more,” Aemond grunts, and you can’t do more than whimper a pathetic string of yesses. “The only thing that will truly help you is for me to fill you up with my seed, to breed you.”

Your head tips back in plain bliss, and you’re not sparing one thought to the possible repercussions of him putting a child in you. If anything, there is something buried deeply inside of you that has waited for this moment. You have waited for this moment. You grew up thinking you’d marry your twin one day, only for the rising tensions inside of the family to force you to marry your nephew instead as the final straw to mend the chasm.

Aemond’s stamina doesn’t seem to be able to handle the way your body reacts to him and his words – not when a renewed wave of your arousal drips from your cunt at the mere thought of you carrying his child. It’s running thin, ready to burst at any given moment, hence he brings a deft finger to your pearl, rubbing it with frantic movements that should bring you to peak just in time with him.

The pressure brought to your pearl has your body squirming, not anticipating it and the shiver of pleasure that comes with it. You arch your back and moan, yet a tight squeeze of your throat is enough to bring your attention back to him.

“Do you want that?” he pants, dark blown eyes fixed with yours. “Want me to put a babe in you?” It might be his way to ask for your reassurance, and while your body’s reaction should be enough with your walls clenching around him so tightly, he stills wants to hear your voice.

Your cheeks grow hot as his words finally seem to settle in your hazed mind, a whiny ‘yes’ slipping past your lips. “Fill me up, Aemond… please. I want it,” you all but beg, your voice croaked with him squeezing your throat.

The confession flips a switch inside of you that allows you to let go, your body shattering beneath Aemond with a pathetic whine. He relishes in the way your walls flutter and spasm all over him, utterly mesmerized as relief etches itself into your features.

With a groan, the first wanton sound of pleasure you’ve heard of him, Aemond spends himself inside of you. He connects your lips in a heated kiss that has you swallowing down each grunt and groan he unleashes. Working you both through the blissful highs, his hips only stop once he’s sure he’s fucked his seed as deep as possible, determined to put a child in you.

Aemond topples over into the vacant space next to you, his breeches soaked with your arousal and his chest heaving with his breaths.

The sudden loss of friction makes you whine at first, but is quickly overshadowed by the feeling of relief. “Thank you,” you whisper through heavy breaths, turning your head to look at him.

“I won’t leave now,” he says softly, although there is a linger of mischief in his voice. “I would be remiss not to aid my sister in her hour of utmost desperation… so, I shall stay the night just to make sure you really get through it.”

Aemond Taglist: @persephonerinyes @dr-aegon @schniiipsel @thekinslayed @baizzhu @legitalicat

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thewulf · 2 days

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Bound by Shadows || Azriel

Summary: Request - I'm hoping you could write a fanfic where reader, Feyre's twin, who actually killed the wolf but let Feyre take the credit... and before she realizes what she's done Feyre is gone. She struggles with guilt and isolation in Velaris after the sisters transformation by the Cauldron.... Read Rest Here

A/N: OKAY I LOVE THIS. It got away from me a bit. I didn't realize how fun this world would be to dive into. Let me know your thoughts as always :)

Pairing: Azriel Shadowsinger x Female Reader (Feyre Archeron Twin Sister)

Word Count: 8.2k +

TW: General ACOTAR TW

Under the starlit skies of Velaris the City of Starlight pulses with a life of its own. Its vibrant lights reflecting off the river with laughter and music filling the air, breathing life into every cobblestone and corner. But for you the city’s brilliance only deepens the shadows that cling to your soul. Shadows that no light seems capable of dispelling.

You walked alone. Your steps aimless being driven by the restless guilt that gnaws incessantly at your conscience. Every whisper of the wind seems to accuse you, every glance from a passerby seems to pierce through the facade you barely maintain. The weight of the secret you harbor presses down on you with every step… the wolf, the woods, the dreadful slice of the arrow that was meant to protect Feyre not harm her. But Feyre stepped forward and shouldered the blame. She was taken from you in an instant and forced to face the horrors of the faerie lands. It was all to shield you her twin she thought of being too gentle, too fragile for the brutal truths of that world.

The transformation wrought by the Cauldron has only magnified everything. Every emotion, every fear, every shard of guilt. It was supposed to be a rebirth but for you it feels more like a slow descent into a nightmare from which you cannot awaken. The power that now courses through your veins feels like chains. A constant reminder of the price paid to the mother. Of the freedom you don’t believe you deserve.

As you wander through the bustling streets the sounds of celebration around you clash violently with the turmoil within. Families and lovers share warm, joyous moments. Their laughter echoing in the crisp night air while you drift among them. You were simply a specter unseen, untouched by the light of their joy. Your heart aches with a loneliness so profound it threatens to consume you whole. To reduce your existence to a mere shadow of regret and sorrow.

You find yourself on one of the many ornate bridges spanning the Sidra. A place you often found some sort of solace in. You leaned over the balustrade to gaze into the dark waters below. The reflection of the city’s lights dances across the surface, a stark contrast to the darkness that seems to stretch endlessly beneath. It is here in the quiet far enough away from the eyes of those who know you, those who worry over you, that your facade finally cracks.

Tears that were unbidden and unwelcome, spill over, tracing cold paths down your cheeks. You are tired. So incredibly tired of pretending. Of hiding the depth of your pain. You wish to scream so loud. To let out the anguish that fills you, but your voice is as lost as your soul feels in the face of your endless guilt. Instead, you just stare down at the dark waters with silent sobs wracking your body. It was better this way. You couldn’t let Feyre see you like this. She was finally so happy. So happy with her mate. Her Rhysand. You couldn’t threaten that happiness. You owed her so much more than that. You quite literally owed her your life. So, you would suck it up in solace. Cry it out on your own.

In the solitude of the night, you allowed yourself to feel your overwhelming emotions. To acknowledge the pain and the darkness. Little did you know you are not as alone as you believe. From the shadows an Illyrian figure watches you. His own heart heavy with unspoken secrets. Azriel was the spymaster of night court for a reason. He picked up on you disappearing for hours at a time when the others didn’t. He picked up on the fake smiles you threw everyone’s way. He seemed to pick up on it while the others didn’t… other than Feyre who seemed to watch you just as much as he did. He decided he would watch over you. For Feyre, his brothers mate. And for you. The woman who couldn’t seem to get used to being Fae as easily as your sisters did. The human turned Fae that consumed more of his thoughts than he cared to admit.

But for now, he waited behind his shadows. A silent guardian in the night recognizing that some battles must be faced alone before they can be shared.

You returned from the bustling markets of Velaris with arms laden with the myriad items Feyre requested. As you approach the townhouse the warm light from within spills out onto the cobblestones. It was a stark contrast to the dusk settling over the city. You pause at the door steeling yourself with a deep breath before stepping inside. Your smile as you hand the bags to Feyre doesn't quite reach your eyes. But she's too caught up in the moment to notice.

"Thank you so much," she says with a relief evident as she starts to unpack the food you’d volunteered to pick up for her. She pauses before she got too carried away giving you that look, the one you've come to know so well. The one that silently implores you to stay. To be a part of her world. "Will you stay for dinner? Everyone's coming over. Even Amren agreed to come. It would mean so much to me."

Her eyes are pleading and you know you can't refuse. Not when she's given up so much for you. With a nod you agree even as your stomach tightens at the thought of facing everyone. It was easy to fake your inner turmoil when it was only her or Rhys. But when it was the entirety of the Inner Circle it was harder to hide away. Inevitably someone would get you hooked in on a conversation. You haven't sat down with them since… well, since before the Cauldron. Since before everything changed. And that was almost an entire year ago now. You knew this request would come sooner or later. Though you were hoping for later you were going to suck it up for Feyre.

As the evening wears on the townhouse fills with laughter and conversation with everyone gathering in the familiar camaraderie that once felt like home to you. But now you feel like an outsider watching from the shadows even as you sit among them. At the dinner table you're terribly quiet. You were merely pushing food around your plate listening to the ebb and flow of conversations you can't force yourself to seem to join.

Feyre decided to sit beside you in hopes of calming your nerves. She notices. She notices the way your eyes were downturned. The way you occasionally nodded your head or smiled briefly pretending to be listening. The way you didn’t pick your fork up once. Her joy fades a little each time she glances your way. You didn’t notice the way her expression turned from mirth to concern. She squeezed your hand under the table in a silent message of solidarity and love. But even her touch can't pull you from the fog that's settled over you. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was your punishment? To live in a hazed state for thousands of years? Oh, how you wished to be a tiny little human again with the promise of dead after a hundred years or so.

Rhysand sat at the head of the table catches Feyre’s subtle, worried glances towards her twin. She meets his eyes with a silent conversation passing between them. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She needed help. He nods slightly. His expression was solemn, understanding the depth of her worry. His gaze then shifts to you filled with a quiet resolve. He knew you were struggling but didn’t pick up on just how much you were. You’d done a masterful job until tonight hiding it away.

Rhysand had felt the ripple of concern from Feyre long before she voiced it. Her distress over your withdrawal echoing within him. She watched you with a sister's keen eye and her silent worry bled into their shared bond. A testament to her deep care for you.

Azriel, Feyre is troubled by Y/N's state. As am I. Rhysand's thought reached out to his brother that was sitting next to you. There was a thread of urgency woven through the mental call. She's pulling away and Feyre feels it deeply. Keep an eye on her please? Help her if you can.

Azriel's presence in Rhysand's mind was immediate and calm. He was steady force amid the silent storm of concern. I'm already on it, Rhys. I’ve sensed it too, he assured. His mental voice as composed as the shadows he commanded. You don't need to worry. I’ve been watching over her not out of obligation, but because... because she matters to me. I’ll make sure she’s safe and supported.

Azriel’s vigilance came not from an order but from a place of quiet solidarity. His attunement to the nuances of emotion and the unspoken had already drawn him to your side. Rhysand’s request merely echoed the actions he’d already undertaken. His actions were born from a blend of duty and a deep, personal concern that Azriel rarely let show. In the face of Feyre's distress and now Rhysand’s request, he became a silent sentinel for you. He needed to ensure that you were not only protected but also truly seen and understood.

Dinner continues around you as you withdrew into yourself. The laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. You're barely aware of Azriel's presence on your other side until you feel him beside you. His chair slightly closer than usual. His voice is soft, almost lost in the surrounding noise, as he leans in. "You don't have to be anything you're not, not here," he murmurs only for you to hear. "It’s okay to just be. To just breathe." His words meant to comfort felt like a lifeline in the sea of your tumultuous thoughts. You didn’t look at him for you were worried tears might spill over. But you nodded in acknowledgement letting him know that you heard him.

The evening slowly winds down and as the others linger over drinks and stories Azriel stays by your side. His presence a steady promise of understanding and patience. He doesn't push you to talk nor does he expect smiles. Instead, he offers the silent support you didn't know you needed, becoming a guardian not just of your safety, but of your peace.

Feyre watches this exchange with a glimmer of hope lighting up her worried features. Perhaps with Azriel's help you might find your way back to them. To yourself. Tonight, though, is just a small step in your journey back to yourself.

As everyone departs for the night you linger in the living room feigning interest in tidying up the small mess left behind. Feyre watches you for a moment with that same concern etching her features. But she decided against speaking, sensing your need for space.

Once the house is quiet you decide to step out for a walk under the night sky of Velaris. It had become your favorite routine. A routine that kept you grounded. A quick walk to your favorite spot on the Sidra. The city's soft lights reflect gently on the river casting dancing patterns on the water. It's beautiful yet the sight does little to ease the tightness in your chest.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice Azriel's approach until he's almost beside you. His presence is calming and somehow it doesn't startle you. Perhaps because in your heart you know he understands the need for quiet. His own demeanor is often just as reserved.

"Good evening," he says. His voice a low rumble. "Care for some company or would you prefer solitude tonight?"

You consider his offer for a moment. Company might not be so bad even though this was usually just a place for you. But it was Azriel. Someone who respects the silence as much as you do. "Company sounds nice, thank you," you reply with your voice softer than you intended.

Azriel nods falling into step beside you. As you walk his shadows play at your feet. It was a subtle yet comforting gesture. At one point one of his shadows curls around your hand. This small, almost imperceptible touch from his shadows offers a silent, comforting presence that envelops you in a sense of security. Neither of you speaks as you walk along the riverbank. The only sounds was the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the distant hum of the city. The silence between you is more than comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding that words can sometimes be too cumbersome.

After a while though Azriel speaks up. He wasn’t looking at you but staring out at the water. "It's easy to feel lost in this city… even with its lights and crowds. Sometimes it feels like being surrounded by shadows even in the brightest part of the day."

You glance at him, surprised by the reflection of your own feelings in his words. "Yes, it does," you agree. You were feeling a weight lift slightly knowing that someone else understands.

He nods slightly at your words, "The shadows aren't all there is though. There are places, moments like these, that can offer some respite. And not all shadows are bad." He smiles looking down at the ones that clung to your feet.

His words make you look at him anew. You weren’t just seeing the spymaster or the warrior but someone who also seeks to find balance between the light and the dark. It makes you wonder if perhaps in this shared moment you might find a way to navigate your own shadows. They might not all be bad you had to agree with him.

You don't say much more as you walk back to the townhouse, but the silent agreement hangs between you, comforting and promising. Maybe, just maybe, you're not as alone as you thought.

The dawn is still a whisper of light across Velaris as you sit quietly by the Sidra. The gentle murmur of the river a soothing background to your thoughts that never seemed to shut the hell up. Lost in the reflections of the dancing water you hardly notice Azriel’s approach until he’s beside you. His presence as quiet as the morning. It was becoming a routine for him to join you on the river it seemed. Not that you minded. He might be the one person you’d happily accept to intrude on your solitude.

“You’re up early,” he remarks softly not wanting to startle you. His tone as gentle as the river’s flow.

You look up with a soft smile on your face. His familiar, reassuring presence is a comfort. “Just needed some air,” you reply with a yawn. Your voice carrying the weight of another sleepless night.

Azriel nods, understanding. He looks out over the water for a moment sharing the silence with you. Then, turning back to you, he suggests, “Come with me. I think I have something that might help clear your head. Help you to focus a bit.”

You’re hesitant. The idea of doing anything but sitting quietly feels daunting. But there’s something about his offer. The promise of relief, however temporary, that nudges you to your feet.

“It’s just training,” he adds. seeing your uncertainty. “Physical activity can be a good way to let out some of the emotions that are harder to express in words. We’ll take it slow. You set the pace.”

Trusting Azriel’s judgment, knowing he wouldn’t push you into something without reason, you stand and follow him towards the training grounds. The city is quietly waking around you and the walk is silent but comfortable. His presence a steady reassurance by your side. Something you were slowly growing to cherish.

As you reach the secluded training area the first rays of sunlight begin to warm the cool morning air. Azriel gives you a small, encouraging smile. “Let’s start simple. No pressure. Just you learning to trust your strength again.”

The training starts at an easy pace. Azriel guiding you through basic maneuvers. His patience was evident. But as your body begins to warm up with the activity and your focus sharpens on the movements. There was that sense of release you never knew could come. It was unfamiliar yet welcome that starts to take hold on you.

As the morning sun climbs higher the training session progresses under Azriel's watchful eye. You find yourself gradually syncing with the rhythm of the physical exertion. Each movement flushing out the restless energy that has been building up inside you. Azriel's guidance is firm yet encouraging and you start to feel a rare sense of accomplishment as you slowly master each new maneuver he throws at you.

But as the session intensifies Azriel begins to push you harder, increasing the pace and complexity of the drills. His softness changed into some else. You knew he was only pushing you to help but it was starting to become a little too much. You’d only been Fae for a year to his centuries. "Come on, Y/N, focus. You can handle this," he urges. Throwing a series of rapid, controlled strikes that you're meant to block and counter.

For a moment you rise to the challenge your movements sharp and sure. Yet the physical strain is relentless. All too soon it starts to mirror the inner struggled you've been trying to manage. The boundaries between physical exertion and emotional pain blur… each block and dodge feeling more like a fight against your inner demons rather than a simple training exercise.

Suddenly, one of Azriel's strikes comes a little too close, a little too fast. It isn't meant to hit you and it doesn't but the rush of air as it passes by your face triggers something within you. Panic seizes your chest and the walls you've been holding up begin to crumble. Your movements falter. Your hands drop to your sides rapidly as your breath catches in your throat.

You step back abruptly with short, ragged breaths. Azriel stops immediately, concern replacing the intensity in his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks all too softly this time. He watched with concern as you struggled to compose yourself.

You nod rapidly trying to blink back the tears that want to rush out. “I’m fine. Just tired.” You murmur. It didn’t even sound believable to you. You turned you back to him so he wouldn’t see the distraught look on your face.

He steps forward with a sadness etched deeply on his features. "It's more than just tiredness, isn't it?" he asks gently as he reached out but stopped short, giving you space yet showing his readiness to support.

You shake your head again trying to compose yourself. Willing yourself to rebuild the barriers crumbling around you. "I'm fine, really, just got a little carried away," you offer weakly with your back still turned, fearing that facing him might reveal too much.

But Azriel doesn’t retreat. Instead, his shadows do what he physically refrains from—they reach out for you. You feel a cool, soothing sensation as one shadow gently curls around your arm, not binding but comforting. It was like a silent message of empathy and support. The unexpected kindness, the soft touch of darkness that doesn’t demand or judge, only seeks to comfort. But it undoes you completely.

Your defenses shatter at the tender contact. Tears finally spilling over as you turn back to face him. The floodgates opened by the gentle brush of his shadow. "I'm not fine," you admit, your voice choked with emotion. "It's all just... it's too much sometimes. I feel like I'm drowning in what I had to do. In what Feyre had to endure because of me. All because of me."

Azriel listens with his gaze never wavering. His eyes were filled with compassion and a profound understanding. His shadow retracts slightly giving you a moment, respecting your space while keeping the silent promise of his presence.

He nods his head willing you to continue. "Let it out, Y/N. You don't have to carry this alone," he says quietly finding the courage to step closer now. He opened his arms to you in an offer of comfort that you no longer have the strength to refuse.

As you step into his embrace, allowing yourself to be held, the warmth of his body contrasts with the cool touch of his shadows creating a cocoon of safety around you. "I was the one who killed the wolf that started this whole mess," you confess through sobs. Your words muffled against his chest. "Feyre took the blame to protect me... because she thought I couldn't handle the consequences."

“It’s okay,” he whispers. His voice close to your ear. “You were never meant to carry this alone.” He pauses. His hand gently lifting your chin so you can look at him. “Feyre’s path was her own. Fate had a hand in it. She was meant to meet Rhysand through Tamlin. To find her way to the Night Court. It couldn’t have been you, Y/N. Your path is different and it’s still unfolding.”

You shake your head feeling the weight of it all. “But-“

Azriel’s hold tightens reassuringly. His wings stretched around you before he stops you. “She did what she believed was right, out of love. And now you need to allow yourself to be loved and supported, too. Let your family be here for you. Let me be here for you.” he pleads, his tone imbued with a promise. In the safety of Azriel’s wings with the gentle embrace of his shadows, you feel a lightness you haven’t felt in a long time.

Beneath the shelter of his wings Azriel holds you close feeling the profound shift within as your eyes meet. In that moment a golden thread previously unseen but always present tightens, binding your soul to his. The mating bond ignites with a radiant force, undeniable and transformative.

This newfound connection stirs a deep protectiveness in Azriel, an urge to cherish and guard you that feels both ancient and freshly awakened. Love pulses through this bond unspoken yet palpable aligning his heartbeat with yours. He experiences a profound sense of belonging, understanding now that every moment with you, every shared concern, was leading to this revelation.

With the emergence of the bond, Azriel, who often cloaked himself in mystery, finds in you a clarity that illuminates his existence. This bond does not overwhelm; instead, it completes him, brightening his path forward. The world around him expands promising a journey not walked alone but side by side, in step with each breath.

Yet, the magnitude of this discovery brings a mix of elation and a daunting sense of responsibility. You are vulnerable, your soul laid bare before him, and he is cautious not to burden you further. Internally, Azriel grapples with the desire to declare the bond versus the need to provide you with stability and support without the shock of this revelation.

He resolves to keep this monumental discovery to himself for now, focusing on being your steadfast support. His shadows as a subtle extension of his will, curl gently around you both. They offered a protection and comfort without overwhelming you with the truth.

Azriel knows he must seek Rhysand’s counsel to navigate the complexities of this bond with sensitivity and respect for your emotions. As he holds you he silently vows to take this journey at a pace that honors both your readiness and the bond’s potential. Wrapped in his embrace, Azriel stands as your guardian bonded by fate yet guided by a deep respect for the journey your heart needs to undertake.

"You've been strong today," Azriel whispers into your hair as he senses your grip tighten. "Let's head back home. You need rest." His voice is as soothing as the twilight and his offer is tender, without any urgency that might hint at the truth simmering beneath his calm exterior.

The walk back from the training grounds is quiet, filled with a companionable silence that speaks of shared struggles and mutual care. As Azriel guides you to Feyre's studio, where she immerses herself in swathes of color and light, his touch lingers reassuringly on your arm. It's an affirmation of his presence, his support, his unspoken pledge to be there for you, come what may.

You offer him a soft smile. One that acknowledges the solace his presence brings even though you were still oblivious to the tectonic shift in his inner landscape. Azriel returns your smile with a quiet intensity, a vow that when the time comes for the bond to reveal itself to you he'll be there, just as he is now—steadfast, protective, and utterly devoted.

A subtle shift in Azriel’s demeanor as he prepares to leave catches Feyre's sharp eye. There's a fleeting tension, a trace of something potent and profound flickering in the depths of his usually inscrutable eyes. It's a glimpse of vulnerability. An undercurrent of panic that he's quick to disguise but not before Feyre takes note. Something significant has unsettled the shadowsinger and it likely had to do with you.

With a nod that holds more gravity than usual Azriel turns to go. His steps are measured but the urgency in his exit is apparent to anyone who knows him well. Once he steps beyond the view of the townhouse his wings unfurl, a dark silhouette against the Velaris skyline. He takes to the air with a speed driven by the need for counsel. For understanding the newly realized bond weighing on him with a mix of awe and anxiety.

He lands at the House of Wind with an intensity that is uncharacteristic for him. His feet touching down on the stone with a thud. There's no time for hesitation as he makes his way to where he knows he'll find Rhysand, perhaps Cassian too. The door to the study bursts open under his force and he stands there as a figure riddled with the shock of his own heart's awakening.

Inside the study, Rhysand and Cassian pause mid-conversation as the unexpected clamor announces Azriel's approach. Concern flickers over their faces. A stark, thunderous arrival is not Azriel's way.

"Are you alright, Az?" Cassian is the first to react. His voice tinged with concern as he notes Azriel's agitated state.

Azriel pauses before catching his breath. His demeanor one of a man grappling with overwhelming news. "It's the mating bond," he manages to say with his voice tight of emotion. "With Y/N—it just... it just snapped into place."

Rhysand rises from his chair. His expression shifting to one of understanding as he processes Azriel's words. The air in the room thickens with the significance of his declaration and there's a moment of collective stillness as they all absorb the meaning.

Cassian’s previous levity fades into a solemn gravity, reflecting the seriousness of Azriel's revelation. "That’s... big news, Az. How are you feeling about this?" he asks as he stepped closer in caution.

Rhysand, maintaining his composure, offers a supportive nod. "This is a momentous time, Azriel. We’re here for you, whatever you need," he assures him embodying the role of the leader who understands the profound implications of such a bond.

Azriel exhales deeply the reality of the situation settling in. "It's overwhelming," he concedes. A frown creasing his brow. "I mean, I hoped, maybe even wished for it. But now that it’s here, it feels... heavy." He looks up. His expression serious. "She’s still healing. I need to be careful. Need to make sure this doesn’t overwhelm her."

Rhysand gives a supportive nod. "Just keep being there for her, Az. You’ve always managed to support her without pushing. This doesn’t change your approach just your understanding of the connection."

Cassian smirks, pushing off from the table and clapping Azriel on the back with a bit more force than necessary. "Look at you all serious and broody—more than usual, I mean. Come on, Az, you know you're probably the only one who can handle this with the perfect blend of mystery. Besides," he adds with a wry grin, "have you seen the way she looks at you when you're not looking? That’s not just gratitude my friend. It’s like she’s hit the jackpot and she doesn’t even know it yet."

Azriel can’t help but crack a small smile despite the turmoil inside. "Thanks, Cass. I just don’t want to mess this up."

"Don’t worry so much, brother," Cassian chuckles, his tone light but earnest. "You’re doing fine. Plus, if you start floating around like a lovestruck bat, I’ll be here to pull you back down."

Rhysand laughs softly before shaking his head at the general. "He’s right, though. Take it step by step, Azriel. Let her come to terms with her own feelings. When she’s ready it’ll be right for both of you."

Feeling somewhat lighter Azriel nods appreciatively at his brothers. "Step by step," he repeats, firming his resolve. With a final nod he steps back into the night bolstered by the mix of Cassian’s humor and Rhysand’s leadership. He was ready to face the future with a heart full of hope and a mind cautious of the delicate balance he needs to maintain.

Back in the townhouse Feyre greets you with that mischievous grin that heralds some sisterly teasing. She sets her paintbrush down before wiping her hands on a cloth as her eyes sparkle with playful curiosity. "So, what did you do to him?" she teases with a smirk on her face.

You frown genuinely puzzled by her question. "What? Nothing, I... we were just training, then he said he had to go." Your voice trails off mirroring your confusion over Azriel's sudden change in demeanor.

Feyre chuckles, shaking her head as she picks up her brush again. "That man is always so mysterious. But don't worry it's probably just Azriel things. Or maybe, just maybe, you're the perfect distraction for our dear spymaster."

"What are you on about?" you ask while feeling a mix of amusement and bewilderment at her jest.

"Oh, please!" Feyre laughs, her brush dancing over the canvas. "He looks at you like every moment you spend together is something precious. Like you're a rare painting he can't quite believe he's stumbled upon."

"You're imagining things," you dismiss her. Shaking your head with a smile. "Azriel is just being kind. He's like that with everyone."

Feyre gives you a knowing look. Her smirk broadening. "Sure, he’s kind to everyone, but with you it’s different. He doesn’t look at anyone else quite like he looks at you. Like you’ve cast a spell on him and he’s trying to figure out how to live with the enchantment."

Her words make you pause. The playful insinuation tugging at the edges of your thoughts. Despite your dismissal Feyre’s observation lingers. A teasing possibility that maybe there's a hint of truth in her playful assertions. The room fills with your laughter, a sound that masks the flutter of curiosity her words have sparked.

Unbeknownst to you while you puzzle over Azriel's sudden departure, Feyre's mind is swiftly connecting with Rhysand's. A silent inquiry flits through their bond: Something's up with Azriel, he seemed... off. Did I miss something?

Rhysand's mental response comes with a chuckle that Feyre can almost hear: He’s fine, love. Just had a bit of a revelation. He’ll share when he's ready.

A spark of mischief lights up Feyre’s eyes as understanding dawns on her. Her lips curve into a sly, knowing grin. But she carefully masks any hint of her newfound knowledge from you. "You know, I think we deserve some fun today. Just us twins. You’ve been pushing hard with all that training and brooding," she suggests. Her voice bubbling with an excitement that piques your curiosity.

"Really? What did you have in mind?" you ask. Your earlier confusion over Azriel's behavior giving way to intrigue at Feyre's sudden enthusiasm.

"Oh, just a day for us to unwind and maybe get into a little mischief," Feyre replies, winking. "We can leave the mysteries of shadowy spymasters behind and focus on spoiling ourselves."

You laugh while nodding in agreement, relieved to set aside the morning's puzzles. "That sounds perfect, actually."

As the day unfolds with Feyre leading the way with her occasional secretive smiles and the warmth of her company envelop you, making you feel cherished and a part of something larger than just sisterly bonding. Every now and then she throws you a look filled with unspoken laughter as if she's in on a joke that’s yet to be told adding an intriguing layer to your day out.

"Enjoy today," Feyre says at one point. Her grin infectious. "Because who knows? Tomorrow you might find yourself swept off your feet in ways you never expected." Her words are light, but they dance with implication, leaving you wondering about the possibilities that tomorrow might bring.

As the days unfold since your training session you begin to notice an unusual shift in Azriel's behavior when he's around you. Always the quiet, stoic presence, he now seems to carry an air of nervousness that is both surprising and endearing. It's as if he's forgotten how to be around you. His typically smooth demeanor replaced with an awkwardness that sends a ripple of amusement throughout your days.

During your daily routines, whether you're practicing combat skills or just strolling through the lush gardens of the Night Court, Azriel is consistently by your side. Yet, his typical quiet confidence seems to falter. Today when he hands you a training sword his fingers not only linger but also tremble slightly against yours. The contact is brief but the moment his skin brushes against yours a visible blush creeps up his neck coloring his cheeks in a rare show of discomposure.

"Sorry," he stutters. Quickly retracting his hand as if scorched by the brief contact. He averts his gaze making sure to look anywhere but at you. His discomfort palpable in the tight set of his shoulders.

You can't help but tilt your head eyeing him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Azriel, are you alright?" you ask with a hint of a smile on your lips. Your voice is soft though hoping to ease some of his evident tension. The gardens around you bloom vibrantly. A stark contrast to Azriel’s suddenly flustered state.

He clears his throat attempting to regain some of his usual composure. "Yes, I'm... fine," he manages. His voice a notch higher than usual. He meets your gaze again holding it for a moment longer than he intends. The intensity of his stare both confusing and thrilling.

Just then as if to spite Azriel, Cassian strolls by and upon noticing Azriel's flushed face and your puzzled expression he can't help but let out a snicker. "Lost your cool, Shadowsinger?" he teases, winking at you before continuing on his way with a chuckle. "You’re usually smoother than this, brother!"

Azriel shoots Cassian a brief glare but there's a resigned humor in his eyes that suggests he knows just how out of character he must seem. As Cassian’s laughter fades into the distance Azriel finally turns back to you attempting a sheepish smile.

"It seems I'm a bit out of sorts today," he admits. His voice finally steadying. "Nothing to worry about, really."

Watching Azriel grapple with this uncharacteristic awkwardness only endears him more to you. There’s a sweetness in his struggle. A reminder that beneath the composed façade of the Night Court’s spymaster lies a depth of emotion rarely seen but profoundly felt.

On a tranquil afternoon in the Night Court, you find yourself relaxing in one of the quieter gardens alongside Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. The air is filled with gentle laughter and the soft rustling of leaves. Cassian and Nesta are notably absent, presumably because Cassian has taken it upon himself to "help" Nesta with some errands—a pursuit that everyone knows often ends in playful bickering and affectionate banter.

Elain has also opted for a day out with Lucien exploring new botanical gardens on the outskirts of the city. Her passion for plants and Lucien's support in her endeavors showcases the growing bond between them.

The conversation flows easily until Rhys, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, steers it towards Azriel’s recent scouting mission. "Azriel here stumbled upon something quite intriguing recently, didn’t you?" he teases while watching Azriel closely.

Caught off-guard Azriel’s response is delayed, his eyes widening slightly as if Rhys had tread into forbidden territory. "It was nothing out of the ordinary," he finally mutters. Though his voice holds a trace of unease.

Feyre jumps into the fray. Her tone laced with playful curiosity. "Oh, but I heard it was quite the discovery. Rare and fascinating… something that might deeply engage a man’s interest."

You laugh completely oblivious to the underlying meaning and look at Azriel with raised eyebrows. "What was it, Az? Some kind of hidden gem or a lost artifact?"

There’s a brief moment where Azriel’s composure falters under your direct gaze, his eyes meeting yours before quickly glancing away. He recovers quickly, however, a slight flush on his cheeks. "Yes, something like that," he agrees, his voice steadying. "A discovery that could indeed change one’s perspective for a lifetime."

Rhys doesn't miss a beat adding with a light chuckle, "Let’s hope it’s not kept secret too long. Such treasures are better when shared, right?"

Feyre nods enthusiastically. Her eyes dancing with amusement. "Especially when they bring people closer together, right, Az?"

Azriel meets Feyre’s gaze. His expression settling into a subtle smile that hints at his deep thoughts. “Indeed,” he replies quietly, the single word rich with unspoken meaning, affirming the sentiment with his usual succinct eloquence.

As the conversation moves on the jokes and laughter continue, your heart warmed by the newfound perspective you found with them. Azriel watches you with a gentle, albeit slightly wistful smile. He noticed how much more you're around, how your laughter fills the air more often, and how your vibrant personality begins to shine through once more. His heart fills with a mixture of relief and deep affection, seeing the signs of your healing. In these moments he cherishes the progress you've made feeling hopeful about the future. He was ready to support you every step of the way as the true nature of his discovery waits to be shared with you.

As the weeks blend into months, the connection between you and Azriel deepens. It was nurtured by shared moments and his unwavering support. On a crisp evening as the sun begins its descent painting the sky with strokes of pink and gold, Azriel brings you to a secluded hilltop that overlooks Velaris. This spot was known only to him and offers a panoramic view of the city as it starts to twinkle with the first lights of evening, the natural grassy surface underfoot soft and inviting.

Standing close by his presence was both comforting and solid, Azriel shares a story, his voice low and warm, recounting a humorous mishap from his early days as a spymaster. The tale is endearing, revealing a less guarded side of him and laughter bubbles up freely from your throat.

As your laughter transitions into a soft chuckle, you turn to face him. The last rays of the sunset bathe Azriel in a warm, golden light that illuminates his features, casting a glow that outlines him like an ethereal halo. His eyes that were filled with affection and a hint of amusement, meet yours. In that instant something profound shifts within you.

It feels as if a key has turned, unlocking something wondrous and overwhelming. The mating bond, which has been delicately weaving its way through each of your interactions, now clicks into place with perfect clarity. The sensation is electrifying yet profoundly comforting. Resonating through your very being.

Your breath catches and your heart races—not just from the shock of the realization but from the undeniable rightness that surges through you. Azriel, noticing the subtle transformation in your expression halts his story. A flicker of concern crossing his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks with his voice tinged with worry. The humor from his story now replaced by attentive care.

A mix of joy and amazement washes over you as you feel a comforting swirl of his shadows around your feet. Like curious creatures affirming this new connection. "Azriel, I think... I think the mating bond just…," you trailed off unsure how to continue. Your voice was filled with awe. The realization brings a new depth to your smile as you meet his gaze which is now shimmering with a mixture of relief and happiness.

"That's what I've been feeling," Azriel breathes out, a tender smile spreading across his face as he steps closer. He reaches out gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I've been waiting, hoping you would feel it too when the time was right."

Taking his hand, you feel a warmth that goes beyond physical touch. A connection that seeps into the depths of your soul. "I’m glad it’s you," you say quietly, sincerely, the words flowing easily.

Azriel’s other hand comes up to gently cup your cheek. His touch feather light. "And I’m honored it’s you," he responds. His gaze locked with yours. The world around you—the city lights, the soft whisper of the evening breeze—fades into a gentle backdrop to the profound connection you share.

In this moment with Azriel’s shadows dancing around, playful, and protective, you feel a sense of completeness. A promise of endless possibilities. Together, bonded not just by fate but by a mutual understanding you know that whatever the future holds you'll get to navigate it side by side.

As the realization of the mating bond settles between you, Azriel's shadows seem to take on a life of their own. They swirled around you both with a newfound enthusiasm. The delicate tendrils of darkness weave around your legs and occasionally brush against your hands as if testing and reinforcing the connection that has just been acknowledged.

Azriel watches with a tender amusement as his shadows interact with you, their movements more animated than usual. "They seem to have taken quite a liking to you," he comments. His voice warm with affection and a hint of pride. "They're not usually this... attentive."

As the shadows continue their gentle dance around you, one particularly daring tendril snakes up your arm, its touch lighter than a feather. You can't help but laugh. The sound echoing softly in the quiet of the evening. With a delighted grin you reach out to trace the path of the shadow with your fingertips, marveling at the cool, tingling sensation it leaves on your skin.

Azriel continues watching with an affectionate roll of his eyes accompanying his half-smirk. "You're going to spoil them," he teases. His tone light but full of warmth.

Encouraged by your positive reaction another shadow playfully darts forward and mimics the motion of a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle with joy, your hand touching the spot in mock surprise and then you're both laughing. A shared moment of joy and wonder at the peculiar yet endearing behavior of the shadows.

Azriel shakes his head, but his eyes shine with amusement. "Now you've done it. They're going to expect this king of attention all the time," he jokes as the shadows around him swirled in what you swear could be shadowy laughter.

"You know, I think I'm okay with that," you respond still smiling as you watch the shadows retreat slightly, as if bashful from the attention. "They're quite charming. Just like someone else I know." You glance up at Azriel with a playful smirk. Enjoying the light flush that colors his cheeks at the compliment.

The shadows, seemingly pleased with their role in this light-hearted exchange, settle more calmly around you both like a contented sigh after a bout of laughter. The protective circle they form feels like a gentle embrace not just from Azriel but from all parts of him.

As the laughter fades Azriel's expression turns tender, his gaze softening as he searches your face looking for any sign of unease. "But seriously," he says with his voice low and earnest, "are you really okay?" His concern is palpable. The bond between you making every emotion, every nuance of feeling that much more intense and meaningful.

You meet his gaze feeling a surge of warmth from his sincere concern. Smiling gently, you nod, the tranquility of the moment filling you with a profound sense of peace. "I really am okay. For the first time in a long time," you admit. Your voice steady and sure. The confession feels like a significant acknowledgment of the journey you've been on and the role Azriel, and his shadows, have played in it.

Azriel's smile in response is radiant. A look of relief and happiness that brightens his entire demeanor. "That's all I’ve ever wanted to hear," he murmurs. His voice soft with emotion. He stands closer, his hand gently squeezing yours. "Come on, love," he whispers with a twinkle in his eyes. "Let's fly home."

With a graceful motion Azriel unfurls his expansive wings, the dark feathers shimmering under the starlight. The sight never fails to take your breath away. He wraps an arm securely around your waist, his touch reassuring. "Ready?" he asks. His voice a low rumble filled with excitement and anticipation.

With a nod you cling to him, feeling the rush of air as he leaps into the sky. Velaris unfolds below you. It was a gorgeous tapestry of lights and shadows. The wind was cool and exhilarating against your face. Flying with Azriel, held close against his chest, the city sprawling beneath you is an experience that feels as if it straddles the line between dream and reality.

The flight is swift and smooth. The quiet only broken by the rushing wind and the steady beat of Azriel's powerful wings. The world seems to shrink away, leaving only the two of you soaring through the night sky. As the House of Wind comes into view Azriel’s descent is gentle, a reminder of his skill and care for you.

You land softly on the balcony, the cool night breeze playing around you, still wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. Just as you touch down the laughter and lively banter of the Inner Circle reach your ears from inside.

As you and Azriel step through the grand doors of the House of Wind the lively atmosphere of the Inner Circle greets you. Cassian's booming voice fills the foyer as he spots you descending from the balcony. "Finally decided to join us, huh? Or were you two plotting to take over Velaris with your love-struck scheming?" he teases, winking not so conspicuously.

Rhysand joins in with a sly grin. His eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think they were busy weaving shadows and starlight. Look how they landed, like a pair of night-blooming flowers." His voice was laden with humor and draws a round of chuckles from around the room.

Feyre, Nesta, and Elain watch from the side, their expressions varying degrees of amusement and affection. Feyre's eyes meet yours and she gives you an approving nod. Her smile suggesting she understands more than she lets on. Nesta’s smirk is more enigmatic but supportive while Elain’s gentle gaze is filled with romantic delight at the scene unfolding before her.

Amid the teasing Azriel keeps you close, his arm remaining protectively around your waist. The warmth of his embrace reassures you. His presence a calming force against the good-natured ribbing. "Ignore them," he murmurs softly against your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the laughter. His voice is rich with affection and a hint of playfulness that only you are privy to.

"You make it sound so easy," you whisper back, unable to suppress a smile feeling buoyed by the love filling the room.

As the evening progresses the light banter continues, with everyone occasionally casting teasing glances your way, making playful comments about the inseparable duo you and Azriel have become. Despite the jests there’s an underlying current of genuine happiness for you both. A celebration of the deepening bond that everyone seems to recognize and respect.

The night unfolds with shared stories, laughter, and an occasional clinking of glasses in toasts, not just to the night but to new beginnings and magical connections. As you stand by Azriel’s side, surrounded by friends who are more like family. You feel a profound sense of belonging and happiness. Here in the heart of the Night Court, under the watchful eyes of the stars and the soft glow of the city, you are home—not just in place, but in heart, bound by love, laughter, and the eternal dance of shadows and light.

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midnightorchids · 3 days

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Hello I'm literally obsessed with how you write jason todd and how you invision him I binged your jason todd list and it's so good. I was wondering if you could write one where he has like a bubbly golden retriever girl who is obsessed with him and would leave any conversation to just go to him

First of all, you’re a literal sweetheart omg! Thank you so much for reading, I’m so glad you like my work! And second, I am so so so sorry for how late this is!!

This idea is so cute, Jason totally deserves a cute and bubbly gf!! This is a little bit long, but I hope you like it!!

Jason had once again invited you to another one of Bruce’s galas as his date. Formal events were never your scene, but you couldn’t say no to Jason, especially when he’d ask so politely.

He’d stare at your face lovingly with his big doe eyes. His calloused hands would cup your face gently as his thumbs delicately grazed your cheeks. His bitten lips would turn into a small smile and you couldn’t bear to say no to his pretty face. That’s how the story always went, he’d stare at you innocently and you’d always agree to attend.

Jason hated attending galas, but he hated going to them alone even more. Hence why he brought you, he wanted you there for moral support.

He always tried his best to be gentleman when it came to these types of events. His eyes never leaving you for a second.

A few years ago he made up a code for when you’d attend formal events together. You still remember the look he gave you when he explained the “rules.”

His gaze was gentle and his hands were laced with your own. He spoke in a soft, hushed voice, “okay pretty girl, listen up. One squeeze, means you’re done with the conversation. Two is for when you’re ready to leave. Got it?”

You almost never had to use the code though, somehow Jason always knew when it was time to head out.

Galas and formal events were always so consuming, exhausting almost. The politics and business were far too confusing. You never found yourself wanting to engage with most people as it felt awkward to initiate conversations sometimes.

You’d spent most of the evening stuck to Jason’s side with his hands firmly on your waist or tangled between your fingers.

However, despite your views of the galas, you were a star. Men and women alike frolicked around you, like bees to a flower. You were always a source of wonderment— polite, kind and beautiful.

You always greeted everyone with a soft, welcoming smile. You were bubbly and made an effort to look engaged in conversations when people approached you. Whenever you’d do this, Jason couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t your element, but here you were immersing yourself into these empty conversations for him.

This particular gala felt similar to most of Bruce’s events. Noisey chatter and expensive gowns engulfing the room.

You were starting to feel tired and Jason was starting to feel antsy too. But he was cornered by three men in matching black suits and it was too awkward to leave. You and Jason rarely got separated at such places, but it had seemed to be just one of those nights. You took a seat at the nearest table, as the pair of stilettos on your feet were starting to cause an uncomfortable ache.

You stared into the crowd, a smile small on your face when you’d accidentally make eye contact with someone. You were in your own head, paying no mind to your surroundings when a tall man walked over to you.

“May I sit here,” he said, pointing to the seat next to you. You nodded your head with a polite smile.

Minutes go by and you notice the man trying to gather the courage to speak to you, but it seemed that every time he tried, he got nervous. You tried to ignore his behaviour and found yourself looking around the room for Jason. He still seemed to be preoccupied with the men.

Jason’s jade eyes met your gaze from across the room and his stern expression slowly morphed into a small smirk, making the scar near his lip more pronounced.

He nodded along with the men, but his attention was on you. He stood up taller, trying to fix his posture. He ran a hand through his styled hair, making it just the right amount of messy. He looked good in his navy suit and your eyes raked his body. He looked pretty today and he knew it too.

A voice brings you back to reality and you look over into the direction of the sound. It was the man from earlier.

“Pardon,” you asked softly and the man smiled.

“Oh, I was just saying that it’s quite lively here tonight,” he said fixing his tie anxiously.

“It really is, it’s very loud tonight” you kept your answer short. The man looks up at you, his eyes fixed on your lips.

“So I was wondering-” the man’s words don’t seem to register, you’re too busy looking at Jason. He was done with his conversation and was making his way over to you. You quickly get up in excitement.

The man still seemed to be talking and you find yourself interrupting him.

“I’m so sorry but my boyfriend-” and Jason pulls you in by the waist, paying no attention to the man.

“Hey pretty girl, I’m sorry I took so long,” he says. His voice low and sympathetic. You grin in response, happy to see your boyfriend again.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, “let’s go home Jay. I’m so tired and my feet hurt,” you confess, pouting.

Jason smiles gently. You look beautiful to him. He takes a strand of your hair and tucks it behind your ear and you can feel your face getting hot. Even after years of being together, Jason still had this effect on you.

“Let’s go, want me to carry you,” Jason giggles and you smack his chest playfully.

“I’m fine, let’s just leave,” he intertwines your fingers in his and leads you out the door.

The man’s face looks stunned, he didn’t expect you to run off with your boyfriend mid conversation.

#fem!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #batfam

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pucksandpower · 5 hours

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Legends Never Die

Carlos Sainz x Senna!Reader

Summary: sometimes the hole in your heart left behind by the passing of your father becomes almost too much to bear, but Carlos and his family never fail to ease the ache

Brazilian Grand Prix, 2023

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you step out onto the podium at Interlagos after winning your home race — the Brazilian Grand Prix — for McLaren.

You wave to the sea of fans, trying to keep your emotions in check. But it’s impossible. Everywhere you look there are reminders of your father.

Fans wave Brazilian flags emblazoned with his iconic yellow and green helmet. Others wear t-shirts bearing his name and race number. Signs reading “Senna Forever” make your chest tighten.

He’s everywhere … except where you need him most. In your memories.

You were just a baby when he died in that fateful accident at Imola in 1994. You only know the sound of his voice through crackling video footage, his infectious smile from yellowing photographs. But you don’t actually remember him. Your own father, the man whose immense legacy you carry on your shoulders each time you slide into the cockpit of a Formula 1 car.

By the time the national anthem plays and the champagne corks pop, you can barely see through the tears welling in your eyes. You blink them back rapidly, hoping the cameras don’t pick up on your emotional state. As soon as the ceremony ends, you practically run off the podium, heading straight for the sanctuary of your driver’s room.

You barely make it through the door before the sobs start wracking your body. You sink down onto the couch, drawing your knees up and burying your face in your hands as the tears flow freely.

How can you feel so alone when surrounded by so many who loved him?

A soft knock at the door cuts through your cries. You know immediately who it is without having to ask.

“Come in,” you manage to choke out, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks.

The door opens and there’s Carlos, looking concerned but unsurprised to find you in this state. Of course he knows. By now, he can likely sense when these waves of emotion are about to crash over you.

Carlos crosses the room and settles onto the couch, gathering you into his arms. You immediately curl against his chest, comforted by his familiar warmth and scent. One of his hands comes up to soothingly stroke your hair as the other rubs circles across your back.

“Let it out, mi amor,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m here.”

The gentleness in his voice is your undoing. You let out a gasping sob, tears soaking through the material of his firesuit as you finally allow yourself to unravel completely in his embrace.

“I-I don’t remember him,” you hiccup between harsh breaths. “I w-won my home race and all I could see out there were ghosts. He was everywhere b-but in my own mind!”

“Shh, I know,” Carlos soothes, rubbing your back. “I know it hurts, mi vida. But he’s here.” He places his palm over your heart. “Your dad lives in here, just like you live in his.”

You lift your head, seeking out his warm brown eyes through your tear-blurred vision. “How can you be so sure? I don’t have a single first-hand memory of him. I know Ayrton Senna the legend, but not my own father.”

A small, sad smile tugs at the corner of Carlos’s lips. “Because that’s how it is for all of us who didn’t get the chance to really know him.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear trailing down your cheek. “We keep him alive in our hearts through the way he inspired us, the lives he touched without ever realizing it. And for you ...” His expression turns amazed, eyes shining with an emotion you can’t quite place. “For you, he’s here.” He runs his hands over the sides of your body, splaying his fingers wide. “A part of him lives on, in you and through you each time you drive. You embody everything he represented behind the wheel — passion, adrenaline, an unquenchable desire to be the best. That’s your father’s legacy beating within you.”

You stare at him, trying to make sense of the jumbled tempest of feelings swirling inside you. Part of you wants to protest, to insist your longing for a tangible connection to your father can’t be satisfied by philosophical musing.

And yet … Carlos’ words reverberate within you, striking a chord. You think of the split-second decision making, the fearless way you attack corners, your refusal to ever give any less than your full effort.

Those are all traits you’ve been told time and time again you inherited from Ayrton. And maybe Carlos is right — maybe that is how you’ll know him best in this life.

Slowly, you reach up to cradle Carlos’ face in your palms, searching his caring gaze. “How did I get so lucky?” You whisper, a few rogue tears spilling over. “To have someone who understands me, understands this hole in my life, and loves me enough to fill it as best he can?”

The look of utter adoration on Carlos’ face steals your breath. Gently, he leans in to capture your lips in the softest, sweetest of kisses. The tenderness, the depth of emotion in that one simple gesture is enough to make your knees go weak.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “I’m the lucky one, mi amor,” he murmurs, the words ghosting across your lips. “To be loved by you ...” He shakes his head slowly in seeming awe of you. “You make me feel blessed every day just by letting me share in your existence.”

You let out a watery laugh, rolling your eyes but unable to fight the giddy smile blooming across your face. Trust Carlos to somehow make you feel like the luckiest, most special person in the world after you’ve just spent who knows how long crying on his shoulder.

“You big sap,” you tease, booping him on the nose. You search his expression, your chest filling with warmth at the laughter lines crinkling around his eyes. “I love you, you know that right?”

The words hang there, heavy and significant. You realize you’ve never actually said them before, not with such simple yet loaded sincerity.

From the look of surprise and unbridled joy that overtakes Carlos’ features, he realizes it too. His hands come up to cradle your face, fingers threading through your hair as he holds you tenderly.

“Mi alma ...” he breathes out reverently. “Te amo, mi vida. I love you with all my heart.”

The depth of emotion in his voice, the Spanish words of love and adoration tumbling from his lips, it’s all too much. You surge forward, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss as the last of your tears, these born of happiness and love rather than sorrow, streak down your cheeks.

Carlos kisses you back with an intensity that leaves you lightheaded. His fingers tighten almost possessively in your hair as the kiss deepens, growing more heated and passionate. You’re vaguely aware of him shifting until you’re nearly in his lap, bodies aligned and thrumming with a very different kind of electricity than you’re used to on the track.

Eventually, the need for air becomes too insistent to ignore. You break apart, both of you panting heavily. Carlos’ lips are red and swollen, his pupils blown wide. He looks like a man thoroughly ravished.

You can’t help the impish grin. “So I take it you feel the same way?”

His laugh is low and gravelly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “Oh mi amor ...” he rumbles, nuzzling his nose against yours. “You have no idea.”

You bite your lip, about to suggest taking this celebration elsewhere more private. But a new thought suddenly occurs, giving you pause. Slowly, almost shyly, you meet his heated gaze.

“Carlos … do you really think he would be proud of me?” The uncertainty in your voice is painfully obvious. “My father, I mean. You think he’s ...” You swallow hard. “You think he’s watching over me and approving of the person I’ve become?”

The seriousness of your question douses some of the blazing desire in Carlos’ eyes. But it’s quickly replaced by a look of such fierce conviction, such affection for you, it makes your breath catch.

“Cariño,” he begins, voice thick with emotion as he tucks an errant strand of hair behind your ear. “Your father was the embodiment of passion and integrity in the pursuit of greatness. On the track, he gave everything. He put his heart and soul into being the best driver, the best competitor he could be. And that’s exactly what I see when I watch you race.”

Carlos leans in, resting his forehead against yours as his fingers tenderly trace the line of your jaw. “You drive with the same fire, the same refusal to let anything less than your full ability shine through. And off the track?” He lets out a soft huff of laughter, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, let’s just say the determination, the sheer force of will I see in you would make any parent proud.”

You bite your lip, struggling against the swell of emotion building in your chest at his words. “Really? You don’t think he’d be … disappointed? That I’m not living up to his legacy or-”

“Hey.” Carlos cuts you off firmly, holding your gaze. “Your father didn’t just leave a legacy of winning championships or setting records, mi amor. He left a legacy of spirit. Of personality. Of being a loving, passionate human being who inspired millions.” His thumb strokes along your cheekbone as his eyes shine with complete sincerity. “And let me tell you — in that way? You are so perfectly your father’s daughter it’s unreal.”

The tears that have been threatening finally spill over, but this time they are born of relief, of love and reassurance. You manage a watery smile, curling your hand around the back of Carlos’ neck to pull him close until your foreheads touch.

“Thank you,” you whisper fervently. “For understanding. For loving me through the shadows and the ghosts. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His arms tighten around you, holding you flush against his body in an embrace filled with devotion. “Well, you’ll never have to find out,” he murmurs lowly, lips brushing tantalizingly against the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

A delighted shiver runs through you at his tone, at the deliciously possessive edge to his promise. Shifting in his lap, you capture his lips in a searing kiss filled with all the love, the passion, the longing you’ve been holding at bay.

Carlos responds with equal fervor, one hand burying in your hair while the other maps searing paths across your back, your sides, pulling you ever closer until there’s no space between your bodies. The room seems to simultaneously tilt and burn away until there is only the two of you, tangled together in a heated spiral of want and need.

At some point, you become vaguely aware of Carlos rising to his feet, your legs winding instinctively around his waist as he lifts you effortlessly. Your back presses against the nearest wall and you moan softly into his mouth at the delicious friction. His hands are everywhere, stoking the fire burning through your veins with every scorching caress.

Finally, and reluctantly, you pull your lips from his with a gasp. “Carlos … if we don’t get out of here soon, I can’t be held responsible for what might happen.”

He grins wolfishly at you, pupils blown wide with desire. “Is that a promise, mi amor?” His voice is low, gravelly, and sends sparks of pure hunger fluttering through your stomach.

Holding his heated gaze, you slowly drag your nails down the back of his neck in a deliberate tease, relishing the way his eyes darken even further. “Take me home, Carlos,” you purr, leaning in to brush your lips against his once more. “And I’ll show you just how promising I can be.”

His response is to capture your mouth in another bruising kiss, pressing you harder against the wall as a growl rumbles up from deep in his chest. Then, without warning, he’s turning and striding towards the door, carrying you easily as your legs remain locked around his waist.

Breathless with wanting, you finally pull away as he reaches for the doorknob, laughing softly. “I see someone’s eager.”

Carlos’s eyes gleam with pure, undisguised hunger as he looks at you over his shoulder. “For you, mi alma?” He leans in, lips hovering tantalizingly close as his beard brushes your tingling skin. “Always.”

With that, he’s swinging the door open and striding out into the hallway, completely uncaring of who might see. His focus, his entire world, is solely on you in this moment. Just as yours is on him.

As the adrenaline of victory fades and the ache of longing for your absent father eases into a dull, familiar ache, you’re reminded once more of the incredible gift you’ve been given.

Carlos’ love, his understanding and acceptance of every broken, yearning part of you is a blessing. One you vow never to take for granted.

Winding your arms securely around his neck, you let yourself get lost in the heat of his gaze, the depth of emotion shining there. And you realize — with him, you don’t feel so alone.

Even if your father isn’t here in person, some piece of him does live on. Not in memories or old recordings. But in the love you hold in your heart. The love you pour into everything you do, every dream you dare to chase. The love that connects you to Carlos so wholly.

Maybe, just maybe, your father is prouder than either of you can fathom as he watches the remarkable life you’ve created together unfold.

Smiling softly, you lean in to feather a kiss along the sharp line of Carlos’ jaw, breathing in his familiar scent.

“Take me home, meu amor.”

Australian Grand Prix, 2024

The podium ceremony is pure pandemonium. Carlos stands on the top step, beaming and cheering, having just claimed his first win of the new season. You’re on the second step beside him, arm raised in celebration of your own P2 finish. The energy from the crowd is electric, filling your veins with the same adrenaline rush as when you crossed the finish line.

You should be deliriously happy. Scoring such a strong result alongside your boyfriend at the third race is the dream start to your championship chase. And yet … something feels off. A strange melancholy tugs at the corner of your heart even as the champagne sprays and camera flashes bombard you from all angles.

Then you spot him — Carlos’ father, beaming at his son from the front of the crowd gathered below the podium. His chest is puffed out with undisguised pride, eyes crinkled at the corners behind his designer shades.

As you watch, father and son’s gazes meet and lock, and the sheer depth of emotion in that one look breaks something inside you.

Oh.

That’s what’s missing.

The realization hits you like a punch to the gut, stealing your breath. You barely register the Spanish national anthem playing as your eyes stay glued to the tender scene before you.

Carlos shooting his father a brilliant grin, chin dipping in acknowledgment of the pride shining through. Carlos Sr.’s face split by the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him wear. It’s such a simple gesture, but one utterly steeped in parental pride.

You should look away before it gets to be too much, but some masochistic part of you can’t tear your gaze from the heartwarming display. Seeing that effortless bond between father and son, witnessing their silent communication and affection laden with years of inside jokes and childhood memories … it awakens a hollow ache, one you’re terribly familiar with.

By the time the ceremony finally winds down, hot tears are stinging your eyes. You blink rapidly, ducking your head in hopes that the dark tint of your sunglasses conceals your fragile state. But of course, Carlos notices immediately.

He pauses mid-celebration, halfway through accepting some prize filled with the event sponsor’s product. Frowning, he leans in close under the pretense of thanking you for pushing him all the way. “Mi alma? What’s wrong?”

You nearly choke on your own breath at the naked concern in his voice. Trust Carlos to pick up on your inner turmoil even in the middle of what should be an incredibly joyous occasion. Steeling yourself, you manage a smile that you hope passes as genuine.

“Nothing, I’m just ...” Your excuse dies in your throat as you look past him towards the crowd once more.

Carlos Sr. is shouldering his way through the mass of staff and media, pushing towards his son. He’s waving and grinning from ear to ear as Carlos straightens up, delight overtaking his features. The second the older Sainz’s feet cross the barriers, Carlos drops everything and bounds over, hauling his father into a tight embrace.

They laugh and cheer as Carlos pumps a victorious fist in the air, the other arm wrapped securely around Carlos Sr. You can’t hear what they’re saying over the noise of the crowd, but it doesn’t matter. Their body language says it all.

Pride. Joy. Celebration. A bond forged in the fires of hardship and sacrifice, of a lifetime pursuing the most elite level of a deadly sport.

Father and son, reveling together in the sweetness of hard-earned success.

Your throat constricts painfully as you watch them, your own arms wrapping protectively around your middle. How many times had you dreamed of recreating this exact moment as a young girl? Crossing the chequered line in first place, only to be swept up in a boundless hug by a beaming, triumphant father?

You remember pretending with your childhood race cars, standing on an overturned bucket that served as your make-believe podium. You’d mimic the anthems and champagne sprays, then launch yourself off the “top step“ and into the arms of an imaginary Ayrton, dreaming about what it would feel like to bury your face in his shoulder as he swung you around, both of you dissolving into happy laughter as you celebrated together.

Of course, those were only childish fantasies even then. By the time you were old enough to understand racing, to grasp what your father did and meant to the world, he was already long gone. You never got the chance to make those podium daydreams a reality.

And you never would.

The harsh truth is like a bucket of ice water over your head. You’re vaguely aware of your sunglasses slipping down your nose as your eyes burn with unshed tears. Angrily, you blink them back, steeling your jaw.

Now is not the time.

You plaster on the brightest smile you can muster as Carlos and his father turn back towards you. Throwing propriety to the wind, Carlos Sr. comes up to engulf you in a tight hug, the scratch of barely-there stubble rasping against your cheek.

“Another stellar drive, mariposa,” he praises in his thick, warm accent as Carlos laughs in delight beside you. “Keeping this one on his toes, I see.”

Despite your fragile emotional state, you can’t help but grin at his spirit and affection. “Always,” you reply, squeezing him back firmly before pulling away to make room for Carlos.

Almost automatically, you take a step back to give them space. You have no wish to intrude on what should be their private moment together. And sure enough, no sooner have you retreated than Carlos is wrapping his arm around his father’s shoulders, guiding him towards the edge of the pit lane where Ferrari representatives are waiting.

You hang back, a sad smile playing across your lips as you watch them go. All the teasing and laughing, the play-fights and unbreakable bonds of family you wish you could have experienced for yourself play out in vivid detail before your eyes.

Off to the side, almost like an afterthought despite your place right beside him on the podium. Just … watching.

Slowly, you turn away, the roar of the fans and celebrations fading into the distance as you head up the ramp to the McLaren motorhome.

A thousand wistful memories drift through your mind. Muted footage of you as a newborn cradled in your father’s arms, grinning up at him in pure innocence and adoration. Photos of Ayrton gazing down at his infant daughter with a look of such unconditional love that it breaks you all over again.

No matter how many trophies you win or records you break, that will always be the one achievement he never had the chance to witness. You’ll never experience a father’s unadulterated pride at his child’s success.

Your breath hitches as you finally reach the solitude of your private room, sinking onto the plush sofa as the tears begin rolling in earnest. Who are you kidding? As much as Carlos and his family envelop you in their warmth, as much as you are unquestionably part of their clan now … there is always going to be an empty space in your heart where a father’s love should be.

You bury your face in your hands, ignoring the wet streaks smearing across your knuckles as you try in vain to compose yourself. You can’t be like this, falling apart every time. Carlos deserves to revel in one of the greatest wins of his career. He shouldn’t have to devote energy to consoling you, not after a spectacular drive like that.

A soft knock at the door startles you. Swiping hastily at your cheeks, you suck in a shuddering breath and call out. “Come in.”

The door opens, and of course, it’s Carlos. Because even in the midst of unbridled jubilation, he senses your inner turmoil. He steps inside, the happiness draining from his expression as he takes in your blotchy complexion and reddened eyes.

“Mi amor,” he breathes, crossing to you in two quick strides and gathering you into his arms. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his sweat-damp race suit as he rubs soothing circles across your back. “Talk to me, cariño. What’s got you so upset, hmm?”

You want to explain, but the words stick in your throat. Instead, you simply shake your head, a few errant tears slipping free to wet the material covering his shoulder. Carlos doesn’t push, just holds you close and lets you cry it out against him.

Eventually, you find your voice, thick with emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin your celebration like this. You should be out there enjoying your win, not consoling your mess of a girlfriend.”

“Hey now,” he chides gently, tipping your chin up to meet his concerned gaze. “None of that, mi alma. Your feelings are never something to apologize for.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear from your cheek. “I know today was … difficult. Seeing me with my dad, it brought up a lot of old hurts, didn’t it?”

You let out a watery chuckle, amazed as always by his intuition when it comes to your innermost struggles. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to someone who knows and loves every facet of you,” he replies simply, stroking your hair back from your forehead. “Will you tell me? Let me in on what you’re feeling so I can try to understand?”

Taking a shuddering breath, you nod and disentangle yourself enough to sit beside him on the couch. You keep one of his hands linked with yours, anchoring you as you gather your thoughts. “It’s just … out there on the podium, when I saw you and your dad together ...” You pause, blinking rapidly against a fresh swell of tears. “It reminded me all over again of what I’m missing. What I’ll never get to have.”

Carlos’ expression softens with understanding and he gives your hand a reassuring squeeze, silently urging you to continue. You draw strength from his presence beside you.

“You two have this … bond. This connection, like you’re the only ones who truly understand each other’s perspectives. And I’m envious, Carlos. So envious of the lifetime of love and memories that exists just in the silent communication between you.” You let out a mirthless chuckle, swiping at the dampness on your cheeks. “God, that sounds so pathetic when I say it out loud.”

“No, mi vida.” Carlos is firm, his eyes shining with sincerity. “Not pathetic at all. You’re allowed to feel that longing, that sadness over being deprived of something so integral.” His free hand comes up to cradle your jaw, calloused thumb stroking along your cheekbone. “You miss your dad. You mourn not having that relationship in your life. Those are entirely valid feelings to have, especially on days like this when I got to share my joy with my own father.”

You lean into his touch, fresh tears spilling over at his words as your breath hitches. “It’s like … no matter what I accomplish, no matter how successful I become, there will always be this hole.” Your hand comes up to clasp his wrist, holding him close. “Because he never got to see it. He never got to be that person cheering me on, taking pride in my achievements. Instead, I’m left imagining what it would be like, watching you and your dad and aching for something I can’t have.”

Carlos’ eyes turn molten, brimming with empathy and sorrow for your pain. Slowly, he guides you forward until your foreheads are pressed together, his breath fanning across your lips.

“Mi amor … I can’t replace what you’ve lost, or take away that regret and heartache. All I can do is promise to spend every day showing you how proud I am of you.” His fingers thread through your hair, cradling your head tenderly. “You are the strongest, bravest, most amazing woman I have ever known. Watching you out on the track, giving everything you have with that same fire and spirit as your father … words can’t express how awestruck I am. How honored I feel to witness your brilliance and passion race after race.”

You suck in a sharp breath at the reverent tone in his voice, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks at the depth of feeling behind his words. Carlos tugs you even closer until there’s no space between your bodies, until you’re sharing the same air in an intimate embrace.

“I only wish he could see you the way I do,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours with each word. “I wish he was here to feel the immense pride and adoration I feel every single time you leave me breathless behind the wheel.” A tender, lingering kiss punctuates his words. “You are your father’s greatest legacy, mi alma. And I will spend every day showing you that, if you’ll let me.”

A choked whimper escapes your lips as you surge forward, capturing Carlos’ mouth in a searing, fevered kiss. You pour every ounce of overwhelmed emotion, every bit of ardor and heartache and gratitude into the heated glide of your lips against his. His arms band around you like steel cables, holding you impossibly close as the kiss turns bruising, desperate, all-consuming.

When you finally pull apart, you’re both panting harshly. Carlos’ pupils are blown wide, lips red and swollen and thoroughly kissed. He stares at you with such naked adoration, such devotion, that it steals what little breath you have left.

“Thank you,” you rasp, cradling his face in your trembling hands. “Thank you for loving me so completely. Despite all my broken pieces, you see me at my core and still chose me.”

He leans into your touch, lips brushing your palm. “There is nothing to thank me for, mi amor. You are the sun, I’m merely lucky enough to orbit you and bask in your warmth.” He places another soft, lingering kiss to your wrist, right over your thundering pulse. “I am yours, corazón. Every piece of me, for every piece of you. Never doubt that.”

A fresh wave of emotion rises up, this one filled with pure, dizzying love and affection for the incredible man kneeling before you. Pulling him up, you simply hold him for a long moment, relishing his solid strength surrounding you in the protective circle of his arms.

Here, in his embrace, the ache of your father’s absence dulls to a faded echo in the corners of your heart. Here, you can breathe easy, reassured and loved down to your very core.

Eventually, the sounds of celebration filter in through the door — your team must be getting restless waiting for their driver. Carlos seems to hear it too, huffing out a quiet chuckle against your hairline.

“We should get out there, hmm? Before both of our teams send a search party for their drivers.”

You nod, but make no move to disentangle yourself, soaking up his warmth and steady presence for a few more selfish moments.

When you do finally pull away, there are fresh tear tracks on your cheeks but also a peaceful smile gracing your lips. Reverently, you run your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at Carlos’ temples as his eyes flutter closed, savoring your touch.

“I love you,” you murmur, the words seeming impossibly inadequate to convey the depth of feeling they represent. “Endlessly, meu amado.”

Carlos’ gaze when he opens his eyes practically glows with emotion, pure elation and adoration radiating from his expression. “As I love you, mi alma,” he husks, stealing one more searingly tender kiss. “Always.”

With twin smiles and your hands linked tightly, you exit the room together into the raucous cheers and celebrations. Outside, you can see Carlos Sr. surrounded by a sea of red, laughing and beaming with incomparable pride and joy at his son’s success. Your breath catches when he spots the two of you emerging, arms flinging wide.

“There are my superstars! Vámonos, we have a victory to toast!”

As Carlos tugs you forward into the chaos, his father enveloping you both in a crushing embrace and peppering your cheeks with scratchy kisses, you feel a sense of peace settle over you.

Yes, there will always be an absence where your father should have been, a hollow space in your heart shaped perfectly to his memory. But you’ll never truly be alone.

Not with Carlos beside you every step of the way. Not with his family’s boundless love and affection enveloping you, treating you as their own daughter. They are the salve for when that empty ache becomes too much to bear.

So you let yourself sink into the celebration, into the warmth of the Sainz clan and the sheer euphoria of your personal success. As long as Carlos keeps chasing his passion with the same fanatical devotion as his father … as long as you chase your own with every ounce of vigor and spirit that your father passed down through shared blood … then Ayrton will never stop watching over you both with immeasurable pride and a heart overflowing with love.

And for now, for today, that will simply have to be enough.

Days Before the Miami Grand Prix, 2024

The Miami sun sinks lower in the sky, bathing the hotel balcony in a warm orange glow. You lean against the railing, staring unseeingly at the cruise ships dotting the horizon. Your eyes are glassy, your mind a million miles away.

It’s been thirty years to the day since your father’s life was snatched away. Thirty years of living in his immense shadow, constantly reminded of the racing legend you never truly knew.

Your phone buzzes incessantly in your pocket, a steady stream of texts and calls offering condolences. Old acquaintances you haven’t spoken to in years, suddenly reaching out on this morbid anniversary.

What can you possibly say that the world doesn’t already know? That they haven’t already dissected and analyzed a million times over?

The harsh truth is that so many strangers have more vivid memories of Ayrton Senna than his own daughter. It’s a sobering reality, one that reopens that wound all over again every May 1st.

You feel numb, gutted, emptied out.

“Amor?” The familiar voice pulls you from your reverie. You turn to find Carlos staring at you with soft concern in his warm brown eyes. “Are you alright?”

You try for a reassuring smile, but it feels stale on your lips. “I’m fine, just … thinking.”

He sees right through you, the way he always does. Crossing the balcony, he wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting atop your head. You lean back into his solid embrace, drawing comfort from his presence.

“You know you don’t have to put on a brave face for me, right?” He murmurs against your hair. “Not today.”

You let out a shuddering breath, blinking back the sting of tears. “I know. It’s just … it never gets any easier, you know? All these years later and the wound still feels fresh.”

His arms tighten around you. “I’m so sorry, mi amor. I wish I could take the pain away.”

“You help more than you know, just by being here,” you reply thickly. A tremulous smile curves your lips as you cover his hands with yours. “Thank you for putting up with my melancholy every year.”

“You never have to thank me for that,” he says fiercely. “I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

The sound of the balcony door opening draws your attention as Carlos Sr. steps out onto the balcony, his eyes kind but assessing as he takes in the two of you embracing.

“Ah, lo siento,” he says apologetically. “I did not mean to intrude on a private moment.”

“No, no, you’re not intruding,” you assure him, reluctantly extracting yourself from Carlos’ arms. You turn to face his father, subtly wiping at your damp eyes. “What’s going on?”

Carlos Sr. hesitates, shooting his son a questioning look. Carlos nods almost imperceptibly.

“Actually, hijo, do you mind if I borrow Y/N for a few minutes?” Carlos’ father asks. “Hombre a hombre, as they say.”

Your brows knit in confusion, but Carlos just smiles faintly and drops a kiss on your temple. “Of course. I’ll be inside whenever you’re ready, mi vida.”

With a final squeeze of your hand, he disappears back into the suite, leaving you alone with his father on the balcony. The older Sainz settles into one of the plush lounge chairs with a slight groan.

“Please, join an old man,” he says, patting the chair beside him. You hesitate briefly before sinking into the indicated seat. An awkward silence stretches between you both.

“You’ll have to forgive me,” Carlos’ father begins at last. “I am not usually at such a loss for words. But I find myself struggling to know what to say on a day like today.”

You manage a watery chuckle. “Trust me, you’re not the only one at a loss. I don’t even know what to say to myself half the time.”

He regards you with such tender understanding that it steals your breath away. “My dear girl, you have carried such a heavy burden on those young shoulders for far too long. No child should have to grow up in the shadow of tragedy the way you have.”

Tears well up anew in your eyes. “I just … I wish I could remember him, you know? Really remember him, not just what I’ve seen in videos or heard in interviews. It feels so unfair that the whole world has vibrant memories of who he was, but I’m just … left with echoes and fragments of a man I never truly knew.”

Carlos Sr.’s eyes glisten with empathy as he reaches over to take your hand, enveloping it in his calloused grip. “Listen to me, mija. While I cannot begin to understand the depth of your loss, I do know this — it is never strange to mourn someone you loved, even if you cannot recall the time you spent together.”

His words are like a soothing balm on the ragged wound of your heart. You squeeze his hand fiercely, struggling to keep your composure as he continues.

“Your father was ...” He pauses, seeming to carefully weigh his next words. “Your father was an incredible man, one who touched countless lives all over the world. But to you, he was simply your father. And that bond, that love between a parent and child, transcends memory. It lives on in here.” He taps his heart with his free hand. “In a way that no amount of biographies or documentaries could ever capture.”

The tears spill over, streaking down your cheeks. You make no effort to stop them this time. Carlos’ father merely watches you with infinite tenderness, his thumb brushing soothingly over your knuckles.

“I know I cannot replace the father you lost,” he continues softly. “Nor would I ever try. But I hope you know that our family … we love you as one of our own, mija. You will always have a home and a family with us, for as long as you desire it.”

A broken sound escapes your throat and Carlos Sr. immediately rises from his chair to gather you into his arms, his embrace warm and secure and achingly paternal. You bury your face in his shoulder, body shaking with muffled sobs as the floodgates finally burst open.

“That’s it, let it all out,” he murmurs, one broad hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Holding in such grief for so long, it’s a wonder you did not crumble beneath the weight of it long ago. You are stronger than you know, mija.”

You cry until you’re completely spent, until the front of Carlos Sr.’s shirt is damp and your eyes are swollen and puffy. When at last the tears subside, leaving you wrung out but strangely peaceful, he produces a handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabs at your cheeks.

“There now, that’s better isn’t it?” He asks, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles down at you. “I think my son may have plans to cheer you up, if you’re amenable?”

You let out a watery chuckle, feeling lighter than you have in days … weeks … months maybe. “That does sound nice.”

The elder Spaniard presses the handkerchief into your hand, then steers you back towards the balcony door with a gentle hand on your back. “Then what are we waiting for? That boy may look like me, but his sweet tooth is all his mother’s doing.”

You pause in the doorway, impulsively turning to throw your arms around the man who has, in many ways, become a second father to you. “Thank you,” you whisper shakily against his shoulder. “For everything.”

His arms tighten around you briefly. “De nada, mija. That’s what family is for.”

When at last you disentangle yourself, Carlos is waiting just inside, a bright smile lighting up his face at the sight of the two of you. On the counter, a cheerful array of pastries and confections beckons, the delicious aroma of fresh Brazilian baked goods enveloping you in a warm, sugary hug.

Carlos’ eyes are shining with love and relief as you cross the room to plant a lingering kiss of gratitude on his smiling lips.

“I love you,” you murmur when you finally pull back, cradling his face in your palms. “Thank you for being you.”

His forehead drops to rest against yours. “Always, mi alma. I’ll never stop loving you and being here for you, no matter what.”

You hold him tightly for a long moment, savoring his warmth and solidity. When you finally part, Carlos’ arm stays looped around your waist as he turns towards the dessert spread.

“So, I may have gone a little overboard at the bakery,” he admits with an unrepentant grin, waving his free hand at the sugary bounty. “But it’s been a rough day and you deserve to indulge a little.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling some of the lingering heaviness dissipate at the pure, infectious joy on his face. Leave it to Carlos to try and solve everything with baked goods and affection.

“Well, when you put it that way,” you tease, leaning into his side, “I suppose I can’t say no to that face.”

“That’s the spirit!” Carlos crows, beaming at you with such adoration that it makes your heart squeeze. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he scoops up one of the frosted confections and holds it up to your lips. “Open wide, mi amor.”

You obediently take a bite of the sugary pastry, the rich flavors of doce de leite and buttery dough melting over your tongue. Carlos watches you with rapt attention, his eyes darkening slightly as you slowly lick a stray bit of frosting from the corner of your mouth.

His father clears his throat loudly behind you. “Ay dios mio, get a room you two!”

Carlos has the grace to look abashed, but you just grin unrepentantly at your future father-in-law as he shakes his head in mock exasperation.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Carlos says cheekily, surprising you by suddenly sweeping you up into his arms bridal-style.

You let out a squeak of surprise that quickly dissolves into delighted laughter as he starts carrying you toward the bedroom, peppering your face with noisy kisses. Over his shoulder, you catch Carlos Sr.’s indulgent smile and parting wink before the door swings shut behind you.

The rest of the evening passes in a sugary, affectionate haze. For the first time in as long as you can remember, the grief feels bearable, soothed by the love of your chosen family.

While the ache may never fully heal, you have a newfound sense of lightness in your heart.

As you lay tangled in the sheets later that night, Carlos’ arm a grounding weight around your waist, you send up a silent thank you to whatever cosmic forces brought this incredible man into your life.

And maybe, just maybe, your father can finally rest easy knowing his little girl found her way to happiness after all.

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mischieveousmayhem · 1 day

Note

Hi! I've been following your writing for a bit now, and I really like your style of writing. There's a sort of flow to it. Anyways, I was wondering if you could write a Bruce Wayne x Batmom! Reader. Where Damian clings to Batmom a lot and it's so obvious he loves her more than he loves Bruce. So Batmom overhears Bruce paying Damian like a large amount of money to not interrupt their date? I think this would be really cute, and it's okay if you can't write it. And thank you so much in advance! <3

Bribes

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader, Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader

Genre: Fluff (?)

Warnings: Characters may be out of character, reader is shorter than Bruce Wayne, jealousy

Synopsis: Will Bruce ever get a moment with you?

It happens a lot, almost too often. Every moment Bruce thinks he has alone with you , he doesn't.

The first time was when Damian started getting comfortable with you.

You and Bruce were in your bedroom, limbs entangled, just enjoying each other's presence in the dark, cold room. The only warmth was your bodies and the blankets.

Bruce was enjoying this, he was enjoying you. You guys had all boys, and oh lord were they mama's boys who needed you for all simple. Thank god he didn't have to worry about Damian turning into one like his brothers. At least Bruce thought.

There was a knock on the door.

"Go away." Bruce's voice booms.

You move from the position you and Bruce were in and you sit up.

"You can come in, Damian." You say.

It was quite obvious it was Damian, your boys all knocked on the door differently. Damians seemed more hesitant.

Damian walked in coming to your side of the bed. Bruce stares blankly , and confused on how the hell you knew it was Damian.

"Y/N , I had a nightmare can I sleep here?"

"N—" Bruce started.

"I was asking Y/N. Not you." Damian cuts him off. He sure was Bruces child.

"Of course, love." You smiled as the boy climbed in between you and a grumpy Bruce.

—

Another time it happened was when you and Bruce had a Gala to go to but the boys were gonna stay home.

However, he couldn't find you anywhere in sight to be found. Until he walked into the living room to find you and Damian cuddled under a blanket.

Damian leaned back on you with you rubbing his hair until he spots his father and he immediately jumps up acting like his mother wasn't just giving him affection he craved.

"Y/N, why aren't you dressed. We have that Gala tonight." Bruce raised a brow at you as he stood in front of you in his tuxedo that he looked EXTREMELY handsome in.

You give him a nervous smile, "Well about that," You raised up a thermometer, "Damian is feeling a bit under the weather so I will stay here with him while you attend."

Damian did a fake cough while smirking at his father. His face out of your vision you couldn't see the smirk.

Bruce squinted at Damian. He wasn't going to rat out his son to you because at least Damian warmed up to you and even then you wouldn't believe Bruce.

—

The last straw was when Bruce found Damian taking his favorite thing to do with you.

Every evening you would sit in the garden. It was labeled your bench because the boys always saw you out there on it no matter the weather.

One of your quiet places, you just sit out and read, crochet or some other peaceful activity until Bruce comes out. You two watch the sunsets every evening together and it was just a romantic, wholesome moment.

That is why when Bruce came outside to the garden to see Damian in his mother's arms he almost lost it.

Bruce wanted to be in your arms and Damian should not be there at all.

"Room for one more?" Bruce speaks.

This time Damian doesn't move out of your arms for his father has seen him like this multiple times and he just doesn't want his brothers to spot him being babied in his mother's arms.

"Sorry dear, there is only enough room for two people on this bench. You can come tomorrow." You look back and smile almost guilty.

Unfortunately tomorrow never came, because everyday Damian would beat Bruce to your arms on the bench.

—

All those events lead up to now. Bruce sitting Damian down to have a talk before you and Bruce went out for a date that Bruce has been looking forward to.

"I've noticed you spend a lot of time with Y/N." Bruce spoke to Damian.

"Ummi and I are just having normal mother-son time." Damian speaks.

Bruce furrows his eyebrows, "Yeah..whatever."

"Great! Conversation ended." Damian was about to get up till Bruce stopped him.

"You are not to sabotage this date." Bruce says.

"I'm not going to sabotage it but I am starting to feel a little sick." Damian smirked.

"Do not fake sick, I will pay you a million dolla—" Bruce was about to give Damian a bribe until he heard your laughter from the doorway and his face dropped.

"You two are really something." You place your hands on your hips after you stop laughing.

The two just stare at you waiting for you go finish what you are going to say.

"Damian, if your sick Dick will be here to take care of you in a little but until then you have Alfred." She walks towards him and brings her hand to his cheek, cupping it, "I spend a lot of time with you Dami, it is time I give your father some attention."

Damian melts into your touch, nodding. You were right, he had been spending a lot of time with you.

You then turn to Bruce, "As for you, you shouldn't have to bribe your son to not "sabotage" , our dates." You roll your eyes.

"I know, but we haven't had much time together lately." Bruce comes towards you.

When he's in-front of you, you look up while grabbing his forearms.

"I know, that's why tonight it will only just be us. I promise." Your eyes glimmer as you speak those words to him.

He was about to lean down to kiss you till Damian gets up and runs out the room yelling, "GET A ROOM!!"

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miley1442111 · 2 days

Text

safe- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (1.4k + words)

summary: you become an unsubs target

pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader

warnings: general cm minds topics, knives, stitches, head wounds, trauma talk of harm coming to the team, the reader is harmed, etc.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There you stood, your own blood as well as another's blood all over your body.

What happened?

You were just leaving work, you were going to pick up Jack and Ellie on your way home. It was taco night, you three would cook together tonight, though since Aaron was on a case a few states over, you would be the only ones doing it. So, how did that exact same unsub get to you?

You sat in the ambulance, stitches going into your skin, but you weren’t even flinching, you didn’t even feel it. You knew Jack and Ellie were expecting you, so was Jessica.

“Can I make a phone call?” You whispered to the paramedic. She nodded her head, sympathy on her face. “Thank you.”

You pulled out your phone as she finished the stitches in your head, moving onto the ones in your arms.

“Hey Jess,” You sighed into the phone.

“Hey, is everything alright?” she asked. “Do you want me to take Jack and Ellie for the night?”

You could honestly cry at her generosity. “Yes please, thank you so much Jess.”

“No problem,” she smiled, worried from the other line. “Are you hurt?” she whispered.

“I’ll be ok, someone just… yeah,’ you sighed. “Tell Jack and Ellie I love them, yeah?”

“Always.”

You hung up. The paramedic finished up and the officer who had been sitting with you for the past few minutes escorted you to a squad car and brought you to the station, informing you that the FBI were on their way. The FBI, really? Surely it wasn’t Aaron, right?

God, you missed Aaron. You’d never wanted to see him more in your life. Just to know he was ok, that he was there.

Such luxuries could not be afforded at that current moment.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Aaron sat beside David on the plane, exhaustion pulling at his eyes as Spencer read out the latest attack.

“Oh, apparently there was one survivor,” Spencer said. “That might be his next target.”

“We should look into them, what’s the name?” David asked as Aaron yawned.

“Y/n Y/l/n, she has a son, daughter, and husband,” Spencer said, and Aaron was wide-awake again.

“Pardon?” He asked, hoping he’d heard wrong.

“Y/n Y/l/n. She was beaten pretty badly and had a head wound and a stab to the arm, she’s at the station now. SHe agreed to a cognitive interview. She’s a professor of nuclear physics at a university nearby-” Spencer reads off.

“She has more pHds than boy genius, 5 and counting,” Penelope interrupts him from the screen.

“Well, she is older than me,” he stressed, attempting to keep some of his pride.

“By what, 4 years?” Emily snorted, the rest of the team laughed, but Aaron was frozen.

A head wound? You got stabbed? He felt faint. Immediately, he reached into his pocket to grab his phone, trying to call you.

You didn’t pick up.

He tried again as the team stared at him in bewilderment. What was he doing?

No answer again.

“Sir-”

“I want a profile before we leave this plane,” he ordered and the team all stared at him. “Is that too much for you?” He asked snarkily. They all shook their heads and began breaking off into groups to work. Aaron stayed seated, a million thoughts running through his head at once. Was Jack ok? Was Ellie ok? How much blood did you lose? Was the unsub already on his way to you again? Were you a target because of him?

“Hotch I think we have something,” Morgan stated after 30 minutes. “The unsub is targeting women with the same description as the survivor. I'd say he’s a college student who is jealous of her husband. He’s formed a parasocial relationship and obsession with her and his delusions have led him to hurt those closest to her. It makes sense she’s beautiful, described as being extremely kind and caring about her students, she’s ridiculously intelligent, and apparently she and her husband are madly in love with each other. What’s her husband’s name Pen?” Derek asked, looking at the computer.

“Aaron Hotchner,” she said, a gasp following her words. Aaron looked up, meeting the eyes of the team as they stared back, shocked.

He could deal with them later.

“Send police to Jessica's house,” he ordered before he got up to go to the back of the plane for a moment of peace. He took out his phone, dialling Jessica’s number.

“Hey, is Y/n ok?” She asked. “I have Jack and Ellie right now, are you with her?”

“Not yet, I’ve sent police to your house, just as extra protection, ok?”

“Alright Aaron. Take care of her when you see her, she seemed pretty shaken.”

“Course,” he gritted out and hung up. This was going to be difficult.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in an office, a cop’s jacket strung over your shaking shoulders. You were still covered in blood, you still saw the horrible image of one of your students being killed in front of you.

Where was Aaron?

“Can I go and clean up?” You sniffled, asking the sheriff who was sitting at his desk beside you.

“Course sweetheart,” she smiled softly. “There’s a bathroom down the hall, if you want a shower there’s one in the training centre.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, feeling smaller than you ever had. You were told to be careful with your stitches and that you’d be brought into the hospital in the morning once all of the stuff with the station was over. You walked down the hall to the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, staring at your bloodstained face and clothes. The tears started falling, going down the drain with a red-tinge.

You grabbed some tissue, wet it, and started scrubbing your face. The ache of your body was nothing to the turmoil in your head. Was it your fault one of your students was killed? Was Jack ok? Was Aaron ok?

You didn’t even notice him coming behind you until he took the tissue out of your hand. He discarded it, damped the towel from his go-bag in his hand, lightly washing your face. Tears fell freely as he did so, but he wiped them away, a comforting hand on your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your clean cheek. He continued his gentle cleaning, bringing it down to your neck.

“I’m sorry too.”

He smiled softly. “You don’t have to apologise for anything.”

“Neither do you, but we do it anyway.”

His emotions became too much all of a sudden, the feeling of nearly losing you becoming unthinkable.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

After Aaron sufficiently cleaned as much of the blood off of you as he could, he took your blood-stained shirt off and replaced it with one of his extra dress shirts. Walking outside the bathroom, you felt eyes on the both of you. You recognised some of the team from stories and photos Aaron had shown you. They stared as Aaron wrapped you into his side and walked you back into the sheriff’s office.

“I want the kids,” you admitted. “I know we shouldn’t but I’m so worried that they're not ok,” you cried into his bicep as he sat beside you.

“I’ll send one of the team to grab them and Jess,” he nodded.

“Please don’t leave,” you whimpered, holding onto him for dear life. You needed him.

“Of course not, honey,” he soothed. He signalled for Derek to come in. He walked in, careful of your feelings. “Will you go to Jessica’s house and pick up Jessica, Jack, and Ellie?”

“Of course sir, but… who’s Ellie?” he whispered the last part.

“My daughter,” Aaron said and Derek went wide-eyed.

“I’ll be right back with them,” he promised.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Darling, do you feel up to telling me about it? Or even just something?" he whispered against your skin.

"I know who did it," you whispered back. You felt such guilt. You knew the unsub, he was one of your students Andrew. Andrew was obsessed with you, with your life, but you just took it as a student being interested in your life to get out of work. You didn't pay enough care to the way his interest dampened when you spoke about Aaron and when you talked about your anniversaries or dates.

"Honey-"

"His name's Andrew. He's in my chemical sciences class."

Aaron was silent for a moment. "Alright. I'll send officers his way."

"I'm so stupid, I didn't even realise-" you started but Aaron shushed you with a gentle kiss.

"Don't talk about my wife like that," he joked. You chuckled softly and he felt a sense of great accomplishment.

"I'm so glad you're here," you sighed into his neck.

"I'm so glad I'm here too."

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"You're married?" Derek asked.

"Yes," Aaron admitted as he ran a hand through your hair as you lay on his lap asleep, Ellie and Jack playing by the sheriff's desk.

`'And you have another child," Penelope said, shock apparent in her voice and facial expression.

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Spencer asked.

"I wanted to keep her safe," Aaron smiled. "I also just assumed you'd figure it out. Clearly you're not all as good as you think you are," he chuckled.

The team collectively rolled their eyes, but still smiled. Aaron was happy, you were safe, another unsub was awaiting jail, and they could almost feel the love radiating off of Aaron.

All was well.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :)

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vivwritesfics · 19 hours

Text

Quidditch Thighs

Lando and Max have big ol thighs from Quidditch. Charles and reader show them just how much they love them

Warnings: Smut, foursome, thigh riding

This was requested by @norrisleclercf1 and it's just been sitting here in my drafts for the longest bloody time, i legit can't believe it's taken me this long nat i'm so sorry i've been thinking about this fic daily

She loved to watch her boys playing quidditch. Especially in the summer, where she could sit outside on the grass and watch Lando and Max.

They always trained together. Whether the rest of the Slytherin team were with them or not, they always trained together. Charles, too, joined in, but that was a rarity. They had classes at different times, meaning the time they got to spend together was rare. Rare, but treasured.

She read on the grass as she watched them. It was quiet, with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs still in classes. At the bottom of every page she looked up and watched as they raced each other to the snitch.

From her position on the grass she couldn't see the smiles on their faces as they chased each other. At one point the stitch was long forgotten and they just chased each other .

While she was reading, several of her fellow Ravenclaws came and sat by her. "We get why you sit here now," One of them said, wearing a smirk.

"Huh?" She asked as she looked up, slipping her bookmark between her pages. "What do you mean?"

"Well," another one began as she leaned back, propped up by her palms. "Look at their thighs. I wouldn't mind taking a seat there."

She was incredibly embarrassed as she looked between them. "W-what the hell, guys?" She cried, holding her book to her chest. "You know I'm dating both of them, right? Like, you're literally thirsting over my boyfriends in front of me."

"At least we haven't said anything about Charles," said the third. "Even though he is so hot."

Suddenly she was incredibly uncomfortable. Her grip on her book tightened and she looked at the Quidditch pitch. But even that felt wrong, especially with all of the things the other Ravenclaws had said.

She stop responding to them and they quickly stood up and walked off, clearly bored.

Eventually, Charles came and sat beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he kissed the top of her head. "Hey, chérie," he said quietly as she leaned against him.

Her response was mumbled. "What's up?" He asked softly, kindly. That's how Charles always was with her. Sweet and kind and so loving.

So, she told him what the other Ravenclaws had said to her, how it made her feel. Charles listened, nodded along and kissed her head again.

"Want me to go, uh, have a word with them?" He offered and she shook her head. No, that would have only made things worse. Charles knew that, but he still offered, making her feel loved. "They are right, though," he said. "They have no right to say it to you about our boyfriends, but they do have really nice thighs. Really sexy thighs."

"Charlie, I know!" She cried, gently hitting his chest. "I know, but they our boyfriends. They can't say that about our boyfriends." The last part was said quietly, muttered as Charles pulled her into his chest.

He laughed and she smacked his shoulder. "Okay, okay. How about we go down to the dungeon and show them just how much we love those thighs?"

She thought about it. They had the password to get in (Max wrote it in the back of Charles's notebook every time it changed, and it would be a welcome surprise for their tired boys.

Slowly, she nodded, but it soon picked up speed. "Yeah, okay. Let do it, let go. Now, c'mon, lets go," she said in quick succession and pulled Charles to his feet.

It wasn't clear whether Max and Lando could see them go. They (being her and Charles) weren't to know that the boys stopped their quidditch practice the moment they saw their partners had gone.

Max and Lando didn't know why they didn't expect it, why they didn't expect to find their partners on their beds in the Slytherin common room. "Shit," Lando hissed as he watched them, tangled together, lips locked. "Did you guys want for us?"

She pulled away from Charles, his leg between her own. "We tried," she whispered and buried her face against Charles's neck.

Lando stripped himself out of his quidditch robes. He climbed onto the bed with them, gently pulling the two of them away, attaching his lips to Charles.

Max gently pulled her over to him. He sat her on his lap and stroked his thumb over her cheek. "You look so pretty," he whispered and kissed her. And, as he kissed her, his hands on her hips, gently moving her on his thigh.

Whines left her lips as Max moved her. He pulled away to kiss down her neck, his grip on her tightening. Where he moved her gently against his thigh, she sped up, gripping his shoulders. "Max," she whispered, eyes shutting as she rested her forehead against his chest.

Suddenly, a hand was holding her own. She raised her head, looked at Charles and Lando toyed with him. "What is it, Schat?" Max whispered against her neck.

She simply whined, and he had barely touched her.

The friction was getting to be too much and too little all at the same time. She let out a cry and tried to pull away from Max's thigh, but he held her there, held her still. "What do you need?" Lando asked as he looked away from Charles.

Breathlessly, she looked at Lando and Charles over Max's shoulder. "Touch me," she squeaked, breathlessly. "Please.

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myojinn-boo · 2 days

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You'll Be Safe Here - Sukuna Ryomen

You'll Be Safe Here ... Oneshot fanfic Sukuna Ryomen (JJK) x reader tags: Heian Era!Sukuna, soft!Sukuna, fluffy fluff, bit of angst, hurt to comfort summary: Sukuna never knew he was lonely until he met you—until you made him feel that the way he lived before was empty. Now that you're bloodied and beaten, there was no way he'd let you slip away from him. He'll always protect his love. a/n: I'm a sucker for soft!Sukuna. Also this song just inspired me SO MUCH. Listen to it while reading. I promise it makes the experience better. The song <3

Nobody knows, just why we're here Could it be fate or random circumstance At the right place, at the right time Two roads intertwine

Sukuna never believed in anything silly like fate. He found the idea too ridiculous. Things happen for a reason, yes. But the reasons were always practical.

Like when it came to you You didn't stay with him for this long because you're his other half, or because you're connected by some red string, or God forbid, because you're soulmates. He figured you stayed with him out of pure loyalty because he has proven himself time and time again to be worthy of such devotion—yours and many others'.

And it's not like you have a choice. You were a cursed spirit, a powerful one. People called out your name when they wished for the demise of others. They would pray to you and offer items at your shrine in hopes that you'd grant their twisted wishes. However, you did not only exist for that reason. You were a curse of balance. Not of death—regardless of what others may have assumed.

You hunted down beings with dwindling cursed energy and killed them, so that the energy may return back to nature and circulate again just how nature intended. But you also hunted down anything you deemed too strong to exist in this balanced world of yours. Good or bad sorcerers were all equal in your view. If they were too strong for your liking, you put them six feet under... ten if you were feeling it.

Meeting Sukuna quickly proved that you might not be the strongest in the land. Rather than being irked that a cocky sorcerer like him was stronger than the revered curse of balance, you admired his strength. You were too prideful to admit it at the time, but you swore your loyalty to this man.

So, as a detestable curse living in such an isolated era, you had no choice but to only have him around. Well, it was more of him having you around.

But still, you weren't like his other servants. In fact, you think you'd explode if people started thinking you were some mere servant. Sure, you offered your life to him, but that doesn't mean you were someone to be ordered around. You stuck around just for fun... as friends as they would call it.

Sukuna didn't see the importance of "friends" especially if they served no purpose to him. But for some reason, he let you stay. Even though you were at his shrine mostly to annoy him—he let you stay. He told himself that he does so because your strength and devotion may come handy later on.

But decades have passed and he still hasn't 'put your skills to use' for his benefit. So, really, why was he keeping you around?

He didn't know either.

And if the universe conspired To meld our lives, to make us, fuel and fire Then know wherever you will be So too, shall I'll be

Sukuna sat at his throne, as per usual. One set of arms crossed, 3rd arm lazily resting on the chair, and the 4th arm supporting his head with a fist—just like how he enjoyed his throne time.

He started to lightly thrum his fingers against the metallic material of his throne chair. He always had a bored expression when he sat here and normally it would be because he was busy thinking. But right now, he was genuinely bored.

He thought he was going to start convulsing and vomiting blood because his mind started wandering over to you, what you could be doing at the moment and why you weren't here at his shrine bothering him like usual. It's not like you have anything else important to do besides being at his shrine.

He had the image of your annoyingly wide grin burned into his mind. He could even hear your voice in his head as you asked, "whatcha thinkin' 'bout, 'Kuna?" for the hundredth time. Each time he'd only respond with a 'tsk' but you'd keep pestering him like it was your life's purpose. He'd always act indifferent to your insistent blabbering and questions, but he tolerated it for reasons he didn't know.

He felt like punching himself in the face for even thinking that way about you. But he'd rather not disrespect himself like that. Any form of insolence, even from himself, wasn't welcome to him.

Truth be told, he was starting to think you were stronger than him. Who on God's green earth would even have the power to make him, the strongest sorcerer, think of stupid things. The hold you had over him was just insane.

You were incredibly strong, that much he would admit. So he'd never think that you'd ever get seriously hurt.

"My Lord!" A servant barged into his throne room. Such a foolish act will not go unpunished by him. He ought to—

"The Lady's shrine has been stormed! She's in a dire situation!" Suddenly, thoughts of slicing this brat's head off vanished. You were hurt? But how? If this is some kind of joke, slicing is the least painful thing this brat will ever experience.

"And you know this how?" He asked with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

The servant was trembling at this point—both due to Sukuna's intimidating gaze and the fact that the Lady could most likely be breathing her last breaths right now. "One of her servants who managed to escape was able to make her way here. She could barely utter what happened. But she was asking for your help, my Lord." He spoke, almost wheezing as he did. The servant tried catching his breath. "It seems that the sorcerers hunting her were incredibly strong and plentiful..." Sukuna thought and thought and thought—until he couldn't. It slowly sank in that you were hurt. That you may actually need his help. The insolent brat second only to him in power was actually in pain at this very moment. He let out 'tsk'.

Part of him was disappointed because you'd use him to your advantage before he could do so to you. But his current indifference was just his way of hiding what he truly felt.

He wasn't looking forward to see what your shrine might hold.

Close your eyes, dry your tears 'Cause when nothing seems clear You'll be safe here from the sheer weight Of your doubts and fears Weary heart, you'll be safe here

He simply walked out of his throne room, not bothering to address his servant's troubled expression. The only thing on his mind as he made his way to your shrine was that image of you smiling at him. His body moved on its own as it knew the way to your shrine like the back of his hand. It gave him time to think about you—without the carnage and violence that he might end up seeing you with in just a few minutes.

Again, he wanted to punch himself for thinking that way. There was just no way you'd be hurt. He reasoned that maybe your servant was being overly dramatic. After all, you tend to be overdramatic as well. It would come as no surprise if you had rubbed it off on your servants. Right?

Right?

He placed his large palm against the red doors of your shrine. It was at this moment, he realized that he rarely came to visit you here. A thought crossed his mind—a thought of regret that maybe he should have come here more often. But never mind that. Sukuna was sure that behind these doors, you'd be standing above the bodies of the fallen sorcerers with that same wicked smile on your face. You'd laugh and greet him with your annoying voice, then you'll come running up to him and smear him with the blood on your hands just to piss him off.

He'd much rather clean his pristine white robes of blood than to see you hurt.

He pushed the doors open... and at least part of his imagination was correct—there were bodies of the fallen sorcerers on the floor, but you were nowhere to be seen. He knew it. You were strong. The sorcerers you defeated were just proof of that. Now he just needed to find you and perhaps listen to your tale of how you managed to beat a large group of assailants.

But his hope was quickly vanquished as he scanned the room. Cast off to the side was you... beaten up, bloodied, and hanging on for dear life. You were slumped against the wall with your face looking down at your lap. You barely had any strength left to even lift your head to see who this new presence was.

Was it another wave of sorcerers out for your head? You could care less at this point. The state you were in made you feel weak. And the weak do not deserve a spot beside Sukuna. And knowing that, you didn't have much of a purpose anymore.

You thought you lived for balance—to hunt down anything you didn't deem to be healthy for the balance of the world. But after meeting Sukuna, you realized that your purpose was to keep him company. He was strong, but even the strong need a companion. You assumed that position because you figured Sukuna only deserved to have the strongest by his side. No more (as if that was possible) and no less.

As your consciousness faded in and out, you felt the presence walk closer to you. His overwhelming aura was standing in front of you in all of its glory. You knew... you just knew it was Sukuna. You detested yourself for allowing him to see you in such a state.

"Just end me..." you whispered softly. He crouched down. He would never do that just for anyone. If he didn't hear what you said, you expected he'd make you stand up. But the great Sukuna lowered himself for you. "Just end me, Sukuna," you repeated.

'Sukuna'? What ever happened to you calling him 'Kuna? He heard you the first time. And he lowered himself because he wanted to see what kind of expression you had while you said such an outrageous thing. End you? As if.

"And why the hell would I end you?" He asked coldly. Emotions were high at the moment. Maybe he should have been gentler. Maybe he should have asked if you were okay first. But what you said put him further into a spiral. "I'm weak. And I can't forgive myself for letting you see me in such a laughable state..." you managed to mutter.

Laughable? He grabbed your jaw harshly with his big hand and forced you to look him in the eye. Your once bright eyes were now dull and you could barely keep them open. The sight aggravated him. "How dare you ask me such a thing, brat." He wasn't mad at you. He was mad at the people who did this to you.

But he soon realized his actions could be misinterpreted. He let go of your jaw. But before your head could hang low again, two hands cupped your face to support you. His unexpected actions stirred something within you.

You felt tears threatening to pour out. Fuck. You were already bloodied and beaten, so the last thing you'd want is to cry like a loser. You bit your bottom lip as hard as you can just to stop the onslaught of tears. You were sure that you drew blood. But even that didn't stop the salty tears that relentlessly rolled down your swollen cheeks.

"Don't look at me. Please," you choked out in between sobs. He felt the warm tears touch his thumbs and trickle down his palms. He felt an odd pang in his heart. He had never felt this way before...

So this is what they call pain.

Remember how we laughed until we cried At the most stupid things like We were so high But love was all that we were on, we belong And though the world would never understand This unlikely union and why it still stands Someday, we will be set free Pray and believe

His thumbs swiped away the fat tears on your face. Even though your vision was blurry, you could tell that the once stoic expression had softened. He wasn't mad? That fact had managed to stop your tears somehow.

"This expression doesn't suit you at all. Where's your stupid smile?" He asked softly. You had no idea that he could sound like this. You wanted to laugh, but everything hurt. You thought that if you moved even a little, your rib would pierce something.

So you just smiled.

"There it is." He tried smiling back. Even Sukuna couldn't imagine he'd be acting like this in front of anyone, but that didn't matter at the moment. He wanted to see you smile again and he did. That's all he cared about right now.

To hell with it, you thought. Every single fiber of your being was hurting right now. But you forced your arms to wrap around him. You yelped as you did. But there was no way you would let this opportunity slip away. With the miniscule amount of strength you had left, you embraced him. You conveyed your devotion to him with your warmth. "Thank you for being here," you managed to squeak out. Your voice was weak and strangled. Breathing became a lot harder. You guess that you did pierce something while trying to hug him.

Even if he didn't return the gesture, you were just glad that you were able to—

But he did. He returned the gesture. He embraced you too. Your head fell slack into the crook of his neck. All four of his arms caged you in protectively. He held you like he never wanted you to go.

In all of his lonely existence, you were the only one who kept him company. His indifference and violent nature was sure to scare off anyone. But not you. You were just like him—a few screws loose, cocky, and powerful. But you had something that he didn't. You held all the warmth in the world—warmth that he had never felt before.

He finally realized why he had kept you around. The question that kept plaguing his mind was answered at last.

He needed you. Not because you were going to come in handy later. You weren't some utilitarian existence to him. He needed you because you make him feel alive.

The reason why your face would pop up in his mind at the most random times was because it was his way of keeping himself going. Knowing your voice to a T was his way of keeping himself sane. The reason why he held you so tightly right now was because he loved you.

He doesn't know what love is. But maybe it was just right to describe what he feels.

And he hated that he had to see the light of his life be hurt like this before he could realize that.

It felt like an eternity—just the two of you in a longing embrace. Now that you and he have calmed down. He was thinking rationally again. He could use RCT and bring you to his shrine where you'd live safely forever under his gaze; his servants serving you at your every whim and—

"There are more..."

Your whisper tickled his ear. He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn't hear the commotion outside. It seems like there were more sorcerers here to finish the job.

He pulled away from your embrace. Gently, he let you lean against the wall again—making sure you were supported somehow. Then he placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

He'll handle the rest. He won't let them get to you. He promises that.

When the light disappears And when this world's insincere You'll be safe here When nobody hears you scream I'll scream with you...

"You'll be safe here."

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